Break Point
by linfanny
Summary: Rikkai regulars were accustomed to be Kings; National Champions for two years in a row, popular, admired, feared, at the top of the Junior High Tennis Teams. But High School is a different battle field; self-confidence starts to flicker, pure talent means nothing, and things aren't as easy as they used to be anymore.
1. Chapter 1

**1\. We fell apart, let's make a new start**

« _Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let them knoooooow!_ »

«I beg you to stop». Jackal looked up to the sky. «It's already a dull day».

«That's good. Because I won't let it go. I'm hungry. The _hell_ I'll let it go». Marui dug through his bag, looking for gums. He was _damn_ sure he had a new pack just there.

He had stopped chewing for weeks. While studying for admission test for High School, chewing had gone from an innocent habit to a real obsession. He was chewing all the time, even at night, and started feeling like one of these drug addicts he watched in his dad's favourite criminal dramas. He would've became green like Violet Beauregarde became blue for his blueberry-cake's gum, for fuck's sake.

No-one believed the abstinence could last, though. It was a good day to make an exception anyways. Skipping lunch made him deserve a whole pack of gums.

And he was finding none.

«We'll stop at Mister Donut after practice», Jackal shrugged. «Jesus, Bunta. Tell your stomach to shut up».

«You will be remembered as the worst friend ever», Marui gave up his quest. No gums. Fuck the world. «They will carve it on your gravestone. No-one will bring you flowers».

«I'll trade you a slice of cake, if you shut up».

«...except me. I will bring you sunflowers all the year. I'll clean the snow from your stone».

«If you shut up», Jackal repeated, but he was smiling.

Marui yawned. He should have brought some snacks from home, but there were only two Snickers left and he gave them to his brothers. He had no time to inspect the pantry to look for some long lost potato chips or whatever. He was already late.

«Just remember to bring your lunch from home tomorrow», Jackal added.

Marui mumbled. He would need to stop by the convenience store while heading home. They were also out of milk, Naoto had told him. He also needed the ingredients to cook dinner. He hoped he had enough money. His stomach grumbled again. Thinking about food wasn't the best idea.

«The courts are this way».

Marui stopped in the middle of one step. «And what are those?»

«Girls' courts, I guess». Jackal adjusted the bag on his shoulder. He was the only one Marui knew who put that weight on his dominant arm. He claimed it as part of his training. Marui just wanted to put down his bag as soon as possible.

«Yanagi told me the boys' courts are behind the gym», Jackal added. «No, not that way».

«Why are they always the farthest ones from the building», Marui's stomach grumbled again. He wished there were vending machines somewhere in the campus. He needed at least a damn coke, or else he would faint in the middle of the practice. It was a sunny day, and it started to get warmer outside.

A cup of hot chocolate. Two spoons of sugar. And marshmallow.

«Stop thinking about food, Bunta. It won't help».

«Do you read minds?» That, or he had begun to drool. He checked his mouth. Luckily not.

«I don't need superpowers where logic suffices». He pointed out a building in front of them. «Seems to be the locker room».

«Sure it is the tennis club?» Rikkai did not like to diversify. Practice uniforms were basically the same for almost every sport club. «And why aren't you hungry? And now don't claim you don't have superpowers».

Actually, it had been _all_ Jackal's fault he had skipped lunch. "Let's meet here at noon. Then we'll look for the cafeteria". And then the dumbass arrived twenty minutes late and when they finally reached the cafeteria they were out of everything, and there was no time left to look for some bakery shop outside school.

His stomach was trying to play Gangnam Style with grumbles, apparently.

«You'll be surprised to know that some people can be hungry without complaining about that all the time», Jackal answered. «And since I can see people carrying rackets and tennis balls, I'm pretty sure we're in the right place».

Rikkai High uniform was the very same as Junior High's. Marui bought a brand new one in January - his old one was far too short - and he was glad he could keep using it.

Soon they were surrounded by the familiar yellow-and-black.

«I can already hear the buzz».

« _Please_ ». Jackal headed towards a table right outside the locker room's door. «Come on. We need to get the forms».

«Riiight». Marui scratched his neck. He was starting to sweat. «Can you do it for me?»

«Move your ass», Jackal replied.

Once obtained the forms, they were told to get changed and get ready for warming up. Marui pushed the paper deep in his bag.

The locker room was fairly bigger than the one they had back in Junior High. They found Niou in there.

«Tell me you have snacks», Marui reached him in two steps.

Niou bowed his eyebrow. «Do I look like a vending machine?»

«Hope is last to die».

«You must be desperate». Niou wore his tennis uniform, the jacket half opened, his weighted wristbands already on. «It's been two years from the last time you asked me for a snack».

«I'd accept a snack that tastes like cardboard. I'd accept a snack full of poison, as long as it is food».

«Some bully stole your lunch?»

«No food left in cafeteria». Jackal put his own form in a notebook. «He's going drama queen since then».

«You really suck at Hunger Games». Niou scrolled his smartphone, then shut the screen. «There's an apple in my bag. You can have it».

«I love you in a very homosexual way». Marui smashed on Niou's bag, finding the apple like a truffle dog. Green apple. The sweetest. All the gods should have blessed Niou Masaharu.

«Good for you!», someone shouted.

«Mwaiournbowna».

«Don't talk with your mouth full». Jackal narrowed his eyes.

«Yeah, you should definitely _swallow_ , Marui», a voice came from backwards.

Marui recognize the one - former club member, quite a fucker, awful player - and decided he didn't worth his time.

«Whatever». He took another bite. «At least the apple is really good. Worth it». A blessing for his stomach. Maybe he wouldn't die during practice. Maybe.

«Have you seen the others?», Jackal asked, putting out his uniform. «The Captain, Yagyuu?»

«He's no longer Captain», Niou put his back on the wall. «Bet he's enough pissed off about that. They're already on the courts. They were here five minutes ago».

«He isn't Captain _yet_ », Marui corrected him. He only needed like two weeks to became captain in everything but the name, back in Junior High. He didn't see why that time things would be different. «Jackal, have you seen my wristbands?»

«Right under your nose».

Marui looked down and found them. «Wish I could eat them», Marui sighed. «They look like licorice».

He ate the last bite of apple. His stomach grumbled again.

It would be a very long day.

* * *

«75% of them. For what you're going to ask, Genichirou». Yanagi smiled.

Sanada's gaze wandered around the courts. When he was vice-captain, he recognized every member of Rikkai Tennis Club. He didn't remember their names - who cares about the names, anyway? They say nothing about people - but he knew their faces and had pretty clear idea of their skills. The most part of the people wandering on the courts, though, they were... strangers. He didn't recall to have seen them anywhere, not even at school.

«According to Rikkai website, the High School students' corp is 63% bigger than Junior High's», Yanagi added. «This is due to both its sport club reputation and its medium-high level. There's a program for sport scholarships and higher probabilities to access directly to Rikkai University».

Yukimura knelt down to do up his shoe, put a strand of hair behind the ear. He said nothing.

He didn't need to; his gaze was as attentive as Sanada's, and the boy knew exactly what his friend was thinking.

Yukimura stood up. «What do you know about the regulars?», he asked Yanagi.

«Not much». He pulled out a notebook. He was a brand new one, with strawberries on the cover. «Do you like it? Seiichi's sister gave it to me. It would be very regrettable not using it». Sanada shook his head. So typical of Yanagi. «Actually, just their names. I've been focused on our tournaments until fall, and then I've been busy with finals and study for the admission test. I figured out the best idea was gathering their data by watching them play. Anyway, only two of them are regulars since last year».

«How many of them were also in our team?», Yukimura asked. They started walking through the courts. All the other freshmen were gathering there; only few of them already had their Tennis Club uniform.

«One».

Yukimura gazed at Yanagi, who nodded. «Mouri Juzaburou. He's one of the two second year's regulars. All the others are third years».

«I remember him».

Sanada remembered him too. He wasn't vice-captain at the time, unfortunately, unless he would have kicked Mouri out of the club within few weeks, upperclassman or not. He was indeed a good player, but he didn't recall to have ever seen him at morning practice, and he barely showed at the afternoon's too. The former captain overlooked his lack of discipline in favour of his talent, but Sanada wouldn't have.

Hard work came in first place. Rikkai needed no-one who didn't care enough to attend practice, being him the most talented player in Japan.

And he was pretty sure Yukimura felt the same.

«Is that a new cap, Sanada?», Marui appeared from behind a guy who was wearing a quite disturbing bright-violet suit. «Ohi! Found them!»

«I swear he has a cupboard full of those caps. An entire row of identical caps». Niou and Jackal approached too.

«Yeah, like Donald Duck's sailor jackets», Marui nodded.

Sanada glared at Niou. «The fact that I can't make you run laps doesn't mean I can't slap you». Or punch in him the face. Or kill him.

«You wouldn't», Niou put the hands in his pockets. «Because if you do, I'll slap you back, and when it degenerate in a fight you would ruin your hat. And that'd leave you with only sixty-seven left».

«Enough», Yukimura raised his hand, but he was smiling. Sanada wasn't amused at all. One day he'd lose control and strangle Niou Masaharu once for all.

Marui was playing with the chords of his racket. «I'm still hungry». He yawned. «You guys think we'll have practice today, or we will just get some crappy introduction speech and then can leave?»

«You will do what you'll be told to do», Sanada replied.

«Did I give crappy introduction speeches too?», Yukimura asked.

«Sure you did. But at least you kept them short», Marui laughed. «Geez, I'm bored. I'm hungrier when I'm bored».

«Try to smash your head over the net. Very good to kill time».

Marui's answer to Niou would have costed him at least a thousand laps if Sanada were still vice-captain. He should at least check and enter the school Disciplinary Committee. It was only the first day and he already felt like the parent of very annoying and disrespectful children.

«You better don't say that out loud, Marui-kun», Yagyuu appeared from behind. «Vice-captain is over there, and may not appreciate such terms within the courts».

«Who is him?», Yukimura asked.

«Asou Jinpachi, third year, puncher». Yanagi gazed towards the court. He pointed to a tall boy with his chin. He was speaking intensely with a couple of first years. «I recognize him from the photographies. Along with the Captain is the only one among the regulars who won Kantou Championship last year».

«Did you need to ask him something?», Jackal looked at Yagyuu.

He shook his head. «I met him outside the Captain's office. I walked there a classmate. She needed to see the Captain».

«She?», Yukimura arched an eyebrow.

«Apparently, she wants to become manager».

«That's good!», Marui clapped his hands. «We never had a manager. Football club's one used to bring chocolate pie every friday. I tried it once. It was delicious. Moreover...»

«Whatever», Sanada cut it short. There was a reason they never had a manager. They never needed a manager. Why would they, when they had Yanagi? «Did he tell you something?»

Yagyuu adjusted his glasses. «Only to reach the courts and wait him there. I guess he'll give us a speech».

«The Vice-Captain?», Yukimura asked. «Not the Captain?»

Yagyuu shrugged. «I haven't seen him».

Yanagi opened his mouth, probably to inform them about the Captain's data.

«All the freshmen, here. Please come closer».

«That is Asou, the Vice-Captain», confirmed Yanagi.

Sanada looked at the guy, while everyone started to approach him. Standing near the fence, he was probably taller than Yanagi, with the body-shape of a rugby player.

«Good. Make it short».

«Quit it, Bunta».

«Everyone, welcome to Rikkai High School Tennis Club». His voice was loud enough to be heard, but he wasn't screaming. His tone was calm.

«If you haven't done it yet, get your admission form at the desk outside the locker's room. You have a week to submit it to the Captain. Please be careful that once we ordered your uniforms you'll need to pay for that even if you decide to quit the club».

«And shut the hell up when your Vice-Captain is talking!» A slim guy appeared next to Asou, yelling to a group of first years who started chatting in the front row. He looked like a first year himself, if not a middle schooler.

«Hongo Yasuaki, third year. One of the new regulars», Yanagi muttered.

Third year? Sanada found it hard to believe.

«That's enough, Hongo-kun», Asou said coldly. «Nevertheless, I ask you to listen in silence. The moment for questions will come later».

Hongo crossed his arms, a sly smile on his lips.

«You need to take the admission seriously», Asou continued. «Even if you don't want to compete in the Tournaments, you're not allowed to skip practice or slack off during it. Morning practice is compulsory from spring to fall for the regulars and for whoever aims to compete for Championships. Afternoon practice is compulsory all over the year, for everyone».

«Blah, blah, blah». Marui scratched his ear. «I'd give you that, Yukimura. Yours were funnier».

«Like you ever bothered to listen», Jackal said through his teeth.

Sanada looked at Yukimura. He was listening in silence, his arms crossed, studying Asou like a cat in front of the mice's burrow. Sanada could easily guess what he was thinking. He learned to read his expressions ages ago, though there was something in Yukimura that always remain hidden. You could see it was there, but couldn't understand what it was, like something sparkling underwater.

Yanagi wasn't missing a single word. He once told Sanada that observing people on the court was only the top of the iceberg. How they were outside the court and how people _react_ to them, was what really mattered.

People were all listening carefully. Asou's speech was the usual - rules, behavior-codes, practice schedules - but everybody was paying attention.

«Today practice will consist in basic training. The details are on the board outside Captain's office. Hongo-kun here will be observing you; if you have any questions, feel free to ask him whatever you want». Asou turned towards Hongo and said something in his ear; nothing flattering, according to Hongo's annoyed expression.

«Thank you for your time», Asou turned to the crowd again. «I'll see you at the end of practice. Good luck with your work».

«Nothing else?» Yukimura moved to look at Yanagi while Asou was leaving. People started to chat around them. Sanada heard someone's asking if the one who talked was one of the regulars. People's capacity to hear words without listening a single one of them never stopped to amaze him.

Yanagi shrugged. «I guess we will figure out».

Hongo was already yelling at people for being too slow. «Come on», Yukimura called his former team. «We better go».

Just do what we are told to do, Sanada reminded himself. For now.

* * *

The streets at sunset were like the beach in winter's heart. The noises were louder, the scents stronger, and being alone brought a sort of relief.

Marui turned the corner, a shopping bag swinging from his hand. His right shoulder hurt a little, and his knees started to feel heavy. Sleep pushed from behind the eyelids.

Practice had been boring as hell. Swings and run and exercises suitable for grade schoolers. That Hongo guy had been observing them all the time from the bleachers, like a vulture waiting for his preys to fall down. And someone did fall; actually, the former regulars were between the few still standing up when they'd been finally allowed to go home. A couple of guys lasted less than an hour, the most of the others gave up without finishing half of the assigned laps.

Sanada's disappointment was palpable. It had been weird to see the three of them obey among all the others. He couldn't recall the last time in which Yukimura has followed orders instead of giving them. Once or twice he had seen him chatting with Yanagi in a corner.

 _He has already a battle plan_. Marui grabbed the bag with the other hand, the milk carton inside hit his leg. He crossed the empty street. No-one was around; he could hear the distant sound of the flood-tide.

A cold wind rose; Marui speeded up his pace. The street were full of food scents. _Oden. Ramen. Pizza_. He had just had three muffins and a milkshake, and still he was hungry.

He'd need to wake up earlier the following day, and prepare bentos. He'd probably need to change the alarm tone on the phone again; he was already used to the current one, soon he'd start to not hear it at all.

Marui made the shopping bag slide to the crook of his arm, and started exploring schoolbag for the keys. He found everything but them and ended up ringing the doorbell.

«You're late», Naoto was still wearing his Rikkai Junior High uniform. He probably had just come home too.

Marui didn't answer and moved towards the kitchen. «Dinner», he explained, showing the shopping bag. «Mom?»

Naoto shrugged. «Not here. Tetsu arrived two hours ago. He's studying now», Naoto narrowed his eyes. «Third grade homework. Serious stuff».

«What about _your_ homework?», Marui asked, putting the milk in the fridge. They would also need cereals, and butter, he figured out. He put out paper and pen and started to make a list. «What do you want to eat?» They were also out of meat. Marui didn't have enough money for that. «We could have spaghetti and salad. There's some sauce left». He opened the jar and sniffed; the smell was good.

«I'm okay with that. Are there lemons? I want lemon in my salad».

«I've seen them in the pantry». Marui added cheese to the list. «Ask Tetsu, can you?»

Naoto peered out in the corridor, screaming towards the room he shared with his younger brother. It would have taken him five seconds to get there; Marui narrowed his eyes. There were a couple of dishes abandoned in the sink. He squeezed washing-up liquid on the sponge.

«Whose are these?», he asked his brother, as he came back in the kitchen.

«Tetsu said it's okay», Naoto leaned against the doorjamb, looked at the dishes. «I think mom came for lunch. Dunno».

Marui checked the counter, looking for a note. There was nothing, neither there nor on the fridge. Nothing that would say if his mother was coming for dinner or not. He would leave a dish for her in the oven.

«It's your turn for clean up?» He threw Naoto the towel. «Help me here».

His brother checked the schedule on the fridge. «Tetsu's». Naoto began to mop the dishes up. «Tomorrow's mine. Have you bought cereals?»

«You didn't ask. But they're on the list. I'll leave it here for mum».

«Milk with nothing is awful».

«I've bought cookies. They're in the pantry».

«Chocolate ones?» Naoto put the dishes back in the cupboard.

«Chestnut and honey».

Naoto shrugged. «Okay».

Marui dried his hands and filled the pot with water. He left it on the stove. «I've stuff to do, now. We'll eat in two hours, that's okay?»

«Fine for me».

«And do your homework».

Naoto snorted. «Let me live, Bunta».

«I'll check for them later», Marui warned him. «If you need me, I'm in my room». He didn't wait for his brother's answer.

For first he changed his uniform for T-shirt and sweatpants. He switched the phone from silent to loud. No messages from mum neither there. There was an e-mail from Jackal.

"Bring food tomorrow". Thanks, mommy. "Meeting on the rooftop at lunch break. Captain asked".

Yukimura was captain no more; Marui sneered, wondering if they would have the time to get used to that before Yukimura became Captain de-facto once more.

He chose a stupid, extremely loud dance song and set the alarm for the following day. His room was a mess. Marui grabbed some clothes from the floor, dropped a word to his brothers to check if they have stuff to wash.

After powering up the washing machine, his phone rang again. A mail from mum.

She wouldn't come home until late. Don't wait her for dinner. Check his brother's homework.

As usual. He texted her back "okay", and headed to the kitchen to start making dinner. He wasn't even hungry anymore.

* * *

...

* * *

I can't believe I just posted it for real.

By the way, hello, and thanks so much for reading. I don't want to babble too much here, so I'll just say a couple of things.

This story takes place in High School, a few months after the ending of Prince of Tennis, and it doesn't count all the New Prince of Tennis plot (I may borrow some characters from that, like Mouri, but that's all). The main characters will be the regulars, but you should expect OCs too. I'll try to introduce them gradually instead of all at once, but a couple of them will make their debut probably next chapter. Second, I'm not a reliable writer. I have stuff to do at the moment and writing fiction helps me to relax and avoid anxiety, but even if I'll try to do my best, I can't guarantee a regular update. Forewarned is forearmed.

Every criticism in always welcome - and if you find some typos or grammar mistakes, PLEASE TELL ME.

I'm trying to improve my language skills too, every feedback is useful and gladly accepted.

Have a nice day!

 _Fanny._

 _Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi._

 _ **We fell apart, let's make a new start** [Avenged Sevenfold - A Little Piece of Heaven]_


	2. Chapter 2

**2\. Come on, come on, put your hands into the fire**

Back in Junior High, rooftop garden remained closed for most part of Sanada's senior year, due to refurbishment works. They began after Yukimura's proposal, after National loss and all. As if he felt like he needed to leave a mark on that school which wasn't only loss, loss, _loss_. It was naive, and silly, but somehow Sanada could understand.

In High School, the rooftop was big, totally covered in earthenware tiles, and crowded.

Yukimura, Sanada and Yanagi managed to find a empty bench in the northern corner, right next to the elevator cab.

The others weren't there yet, as expected.

They sat down, but no-one started to eat. Yukimura was staring in the void, lost in one of his I'm-here-but-I'm-not moments. Sanada had learned to just wait for him to come back.

He bended his head behind, closed his eyes. The spring has just begun, the best days of the year for practice; not too hot, not too cold. Yanagi had checked the weather forecast for the entire week; apart from a cloudy Friday, the weather would be good.

«I will need your dictionary», Yukimura finally said. «From one of you. I couldn't find mine this morning. Probably someone borrowed it without asking. Again». He sighed. «Happen to have French, today?»

Sanada shook his head.

«I think Marui does», Yanagi answered. «You can ask him».

Yukimura nodded. He was playing with his chopsticks, rolling them with his fingers. This place was so noisy Sanada couldn't even hear when he tapped them on the lunchbox.

A couple of girls have brought a portable karaoke and they were playing not far from them. _Five minutes_. They weren't even in tune. Sanada pursed his lips. Five minutes, and then he would have stood up and threw that thing down the roof.

He glared at his lunchbox instead; he wasn't even hungry. He had barely slept - his niece had cried all night long - and for the first time in years he couldn't even find the strength to attend morning practice. He probably underestimated how much the fact he had to _guide_ morning practice had been motivational for him. He forced people to do the same exercises for months and months, claiming they were useful. And they were indeed, but had got a totally different taste when they were compulsory because someone else were forcing _you_.

According to Yanagi, the Captain didn't show himself that morning too. Hongo were there again, watching practice from the bleachers.

He asked Yanagi if he thought that Hongo guy were collecting data. His friend said he didn't think so, but for sure the guy was observing them carefully. He didn't really know what to expect, and he hated that.

With Yanagi in their team, they always knew what to expect. Like the first time they met, the first time they played against each other; Sanada won, but not easily. Yanagi's ability to predict his moves after having seen them just once forced Sanada to fight for every single point. No-one before brought him this far, except Yukimura - and Tezuka, but he didn't want to think about Tezuka. He closed that chapter, sealed at the National Finals, his own victory despite their loss.

But now... not knowing wasn't good at all.

Sanada shrugged. Some guys had joined the girls with the karaoke, and now they were all screaming - it wasn't even singing anymore - some dumb western song.

«I'm giving you three more minutes», Yanagi smiled. «And twenty seconds. This is my estimated deadline of your patience».

Sanada snorted. «You're overestimating me».

It was inadmissible all that noise in a public space. The rooftop has to be a place for dining and relaxing, this was public nuisance.

«Let it be, Genichirou», Yukimura had opened his lunch box and started eating. «Have you planned to join the Cops Committee once more?»

«Disciplinary Committee», Sanada corrected him. He would never understand why Yukimura enjoyed this much teasing him about that. «And yes. Seems like this school really needs discipline».

«Is that Niou?», Yanagi asked, before Yukimura could reply.

«Woah. This place is so big», Marui appeared right after Niou, Jackal and Yagyuu just behind him. «But there are no plants. I liked the old one more. The girl who watered the plants was nice».

«You mean you convinced her to treat you food», Jackal added.

«...and there weren't so many people. What are they even singing over there? That's awful».

«I'm pretty sure there's a rule against screaming this loud on the roof». Yagyuu put his lunch on the bench near Sanada. «I'll drop them a word».

Better you than me, Sanada thought as Yagyuu left. One less annoyance for him.

Marui started to eat before he sat down. «Is that omelette?» He glanced at Jackal's box.

« _My_ omelette», Jackal moved apart from his doubles partner, putting the box out of his reach.

Niou was eating a sandwich, standing by the wall. When Yagyuu came back - thankfully he managed to stop that terrible karaoke before it ended in murder - Yukimura was almost done with his lunch, and Marui managed to steal two slices of omelette and one of Yanagi's prawns.

Sanada started eating too. Finally that place was calm enough to not ruin his lunch.

«Renji and I had talked with the Vice-Captain yesterday». As usual, Yukimura went straight to the point. «He told us some information we thought you may be interested into, too».

«About tennis?», Marui asked, two grains of rice on his upper lip.

No-one bothered to answer.

«We asked him about the Captain, and the other regulars as well», Yukimura added. «He didn't really answer. To be honest, I had the general impression that there is a severe lack of organization in this club».

«Nothing that you can't fix, I guess». Niou let the last crumbles of his sandwich fall on the ground.

Yukimura smiled at him, but didn't answer.

Niou wasn't wrong, though. It wasn't difficult to guess that this was exactly what Yukimura was thinking. _I could do it better. I will be better_. He was just Yukimura's way, the same spirit in which he began his freshmen year in Junior High, with Sanada at his side. Time proved he was right.

«Apparently the Captain was busy with paperwork», Yanagi reprised.

Yagyuu nodded. «He was in his office, yesterday, as the Vice-Captain told me».

«Did he say something interesting?» Marui put away his empty lunchbox and started searching through his pockets.

«Define interesting», Yanagi tilted his head.

«Like, we'll have the Hunger Games to sort out the regulars. But we will play with plastic bows and arrows and squirt guns rather than real ones».

Sanada shook his head.

Yanagi smiled. «I'm afraid this wouldn't be useful to ascertain everyone's skills». He leafed through the pages. «Unless you add colored ink. That would make the results more accurate».

«And why did we never do that?»

«Because I've always found tennis matches even more accurate», Yukimura spoke, but he looked amused.

«So, what has Vice-Captain told you?», Yagyuu asked. He was eating slowly, stood next to Niou.

«As Seiichi said, not much about the team», Yanagi smoothed his shirt. «By chance, we will get to know the current regulars during this week's practice».

 _By chance._ A curious choice of words, coming from Yanagi. According to Yukimura's plain face, he must have thought the same as Sanada's. How good could be a Tennis Club, if the regular players didn't even bother to show up to practice? The answer was nothing good.

«Did he tell you anything, then?» Niou glanced at Yukimura, his hands in the pockets.

«We asked about the ranking matches...»

«The Hunger Games!», Marui opened a bag of cookies and offered them around.

«...and apparently they will be held next week. They won't be much different than the ones we had back in Junior High».

«Like which ones?» Niou arched his eyebrow. «It wasn't like we had had ranking matches at all. You decided», he pointed his chin at Yukimura, «and that was all».

«I've never had the impression that our organization bothered you in any way», Yukimura replied, in a plain voice.

«It didn't». Niou lifted the corner of his mouth. «But still I wouldn't call them _ranking matches_ ».

«What kind of matches we are likely to expect?», Yagyuu asked.

«We could freely challenge the regulars for their spots», Yanagi glanced around. «The challenges will be permitted before every tournament».

«So, we beat them, and get their spot? Thanks, Bunta». Jackal accepted one of Marui's cookies. «Seems quite easy».

«Because it's not that easy», Yukimura smiled. «The matches are a possibility to prove yourself, to show your ability. But the final decision about the formation is up to the Captain».

«As expected», Niou crossed his arms to his chest. «Democracy doesn't belong to Rikkai».

«Democracy has proven to be ineffective more than once», Sanada glanced up. «But you're right. It doesn't belong to Rikkai».

«But it belongs to Seigaku. Or am I wrong?»

Yukimura glared at Niou, as to challenge him to go on.

«Yes, it does», Yanagi replied, calmly. «And I don't need to remind you, Niou, that they didn't win the Kantou Tournament fourteen times in a row. Neither they did win the Nationals two times in a row. I'm sure you're already aware of that».

«I am», Niou replied, without changing expression.

«So», Marui scratched the empty cookies package, «basically we have to show off in a match, like an exhibition, and the Captain watch and then decide?»

«So this is what that Hongo guy is doing», Sanada looked at Yanagi. «Evaluating us».

«This is my guess», Yanagi nodded. «I didn't asked directly, but my opinion is that his role is watching us to estimate our level. The probability that they will held different training schedules according to the result is very high».

Sanada nodded. They never did that, back in Junior High. There wasn't place for light training, in Rikkai. If someone didn't agree with their schedules, he could simply chose another club to get into. This was their way to encourage internal competition, instead of ranking matches. Ranking matches meant nothing. Hard work and constant victories meant everything.

And, obviously, losing was not permitted.

«So we're being watched like animals in a cage», Niou spoke.

Well, as a metaphor, it was indeed accurate.

They left the rooftop to came back to class. If the seniors wanted to watch, they would gave them something worth watching.

* * *

«We have 27 new freshmen, 11 juniors, 8 seniors».

Morimura Shinobu searched through a pile of papers. «They will be half at the end of the week. I asked Asou to tell them they have a deadline».

«Yeah, yeah». Hongo Yasuaki tapped his fingers on the doorjamb. «I'll wait for the training schedule for this week. I'm thinking about laps, swing, usual things. They'll be useful as a first selection. Half of them didn't last three laps in a row yesterday».

«Whatever you say. The other members can do free training on the courts, or use the gym. I've reserved it for tomorrow too. The regulars should be already there». At least, he hoped so.

«Okay». Hongo scratched his cheek. «I leave the rest to you, Captain. Still so much to do?»

«Until I'm done». So much. Too much. Definitely too much. Like an Amazonian Forest of paperwork. «Think about practice. Check with Asou as soon as you can».

«Roger».

Hongo was incapable to get out of a room without slamming the door. Morimura snorted, kneading the temples with his fingers. Paperwork was worse than 100 laps in a row. It was his second year dealing with that shit. The former year the Captain left all the registration work to him, trading himself a day off. Morimura could have done the same, but he had too much respect for Asou for using him as a secretary, and leaving it to Hongo was just insane. They guy would have probably burn all the forms and hid the ashes under the carpet.

He was perfect when he needed someone to made the practice schedule be respected, but he wouldn't leave to him any kind of organization. He probably would end up supervising the practice of the Baseball recruits in the swimming pool.

He rubbed his eyes. For every new member he needed to copy the forms, and then make a list for the uniforms, _and then_ check the equipment and the spare rackets and balls _, and then_ prepare the training schedules... The girls' club Captain has called him three times to talk about the equipment and the gym last week. Morimura suspected her strategy was taking him for exhaustion. She definitely underestimated him, then.

Someone knocked the door. Morimura cursed through his teeth. He hated that work, but it needed to be done, and how could he do it, if there was a distraction behind the other? «Come in».

«Captain». Hongo's head appeared behind the door. «There's this girl here. She wants to talk to you». He lowered his voice until he whispered. «She could be the solution to all your problems».

«A slave-robot programmed to do paperwork?»

Hongo smiled, then disappeared to let a girl come in. _Bam!_ He needed to teach that idiot how to close doors, or he would have killed him before summer comes.

«Good afternoon». The girl approached the desk, glancing at the pile of paper with a smile.

«Good afternoon». Morimura pointed the chair in front of the desk. «How can I help you?»

«You're the Captain, right, _Senpai_?»

He nodded. «Again, how can I help you?»

«I'm Matsui, I'm a first year. I'd want to sign up as Tennis Club Manager».

Morimura frowned. He shook his head. «We don't need a Manager, Matsui-san. We never had a Manager in the Tennis Club. It's not our policy».

This wasn't actually true. During his freshmen year, the Captain at the time asked a girl he wanted to date to became their manager, and all she could do was building a black market of the regulars' photos taken in the locker room. The memory was still irritating. Surely, not because there was still a photo of him in Doraemon's boxer shorts wandering around at school. Not for that.

«And what's your policy?», she asked. She grabbed a couple of forms. «Doing all the paperwork by yourself?»

He grabbed the sheets back. «I didn't allow you to take them».

«Are they the registration forms, right?», she looked at them. «I can help you with those. I've organized them a lot of times, I know them by heart. Well, I guess they're not identical everywhere, but hey, how different could they be?» She arched her bows. «Unless they include some weird provisions. Once a guy changed the girl's soccer club forms, inserting a provision which forced the girls to have practice in bikini and...»

«We don't need a manager», Morimura refrain himself to slam the hands on the table. «You can leave».

She pledged her head, smiled again. «I make delicious lemon cake, and I'm fast as hell in paperwork. Well, my handwriting is pitiful, Fukushi-sensei always said my kanji were more similar to...»

«Matsui-san».

«...well, whatever. You'd actually be able to read them. If I must, I can write everything in hiragana».

Morimura massaged his temples. «If you're trying to convince me by exhaustion, you took the wrong person».

«Well, you can just give me a try». She smiled again. «If I screw up, you can kick me out. But I won't. I've already did it plenty of times. I'm more useful than a coffee pot».

Morimura was tempted. He glanced the tons of paperwork still to be done. Maybe he could let her do it, and then kick her out with an excuse. He could hardly understand how someone could have been so delighted to waste an afternoon with admission forms, anyway.

He rubbed his hair, then sighed. Matsui opened her mouth to add something, Morimura raised his hand to stop her.

«Take one of them. The names are on this list. If you need to ask something, do it now».

«Got it!» With a rather creepy smile, she uncapped a pen and started to write.

World is full of fools, Morimura thought, and went back to his work.

* * *

«I'll have a glance out there».

Matsui nodded. This girl was something like _evil_. She had already finished half of the forms by herself; Morimura checked some of them, and there was nothing wrong. Her handwriting was terrible indeed, but not hard to understand.

He could leave the rest of the work to her without remorse, and instead go checking the new recruits and perhaps joining the other regulars and have at least half an hour in the gym before heading home.

He took his whistle and glanced at the training schedule. It was only basic program, to test the new recruits. Most of them couldn't even complete ten laps in a row without collapsing on the ground.

Two years before, Morimura would have considered that as a defeat, but then he had seen Asou starting from zero and becoming one of the best players in the team, and he understood nothing could have been foreseen for certain. Anyone deserved a chance, having them the right willpower. Tenacity. Attitude. That was what he was looking for.

Quite funny, too, since half of the regulars attended one practice every three, the previous year. Another thing in force to be changed.

«Ohi, Captain!»

Hongo was still watching the practice from the bleachers. Wrong. He was playing Candy Crush while pretending to watch over practice. Morimura took his phone away, switched off the screen.

«Shit». Hongo took his phone back. «I was on a new record».

«Wanna reach a new laps record, too?», Morimura asked.

Hongo got the hint, put the phone in the jacket's pocket. «It's boring», he whined. «They're all quite good».

« _All quite good_ is far the count of information I asked you to gather», Morimura said. «I gave you instructions clear enough».

«Sort them in groups according to their skills, yeah, _yeah_ , I know. I just thought to watch them through practice and then ask».

«I asked you to _observe_ them and then sort them in groups». Morimura went through all the reasons why he thought he was suited for that role. He couldn't remember a single one. «Did you observe them?»

«It's hard to sort them off». Hongo's hand went to the phone again. Morimura's glare stopped it outside the pocket. «They all look the same».

Morimura counted to ten, naming all the members that could've been better suited for that than Hongo. Oh, yes. No-one else. He prevented himself to curse.

«Make them wear a number on the uniforms if you must. Be creative. I just need the results».

«Hardly a difficult task, for some of them». Hongo pointed his head to a group of students under the bleachers. «Those ones couldn't even keep the racket on anymore. Their grips are all wrong. One is for sure from baseball's club, but he didn't realize the racket is not a bat. I bet three _nikuman_ they don't even know how to hit the ball».

Morimura nodded. The guys seemed exhausted, one was probably sleeping on the ground.

«Sort them in group A. Beginners. Asou is arranging a schedule for those who make it through the first week». Experience said it was a low percentage. His freshmen year they started as forty-two. There were only nineteen left.

«And why couldn't be Asou here watching for the recruits?» Hongo managed to reach his phone again. «Maybe I could help you with the schedules, and he would deal with the sorting stuff».

Morimura simply stared at him. Hongo understood. The idea to leave him with the responsibility of the schedules was pure fantasy. «You'll be the one who assured they'll be followed properly. Leave the rest to us».

Hongo shrugged. «Hey, d'you left Candy Candy with paperwork? Thought you had enough to make the night».

Morimura didn't bother himself to make him notice he could've offered his helping hand. He clearly knew how he could expect from Hongo, and spontaneous help wasn't in the list.

«She's doing well for now. She said she had experience. If she really could manage with paperwork and administration stuff, we could even keep her. If she doesn't screw everything up».

«Like Doraemon-screw-up?»

«I can't remember asking you anything, Hongo».

«Okay». The asshole smiled slyly. Too bad that between Captain's right wasn't the one to punch the other regulars in the guts. «Ohi, look. Nobita at hour Nine».

Morimura turned. «What are you talking... Ah. Hongo-kun. Those may be hour Three».

«Wait, is there any difference? I thought it was just a sayin'».

Morimura didn't answer. A freshmen guy was approaching, the racket swinging at his side.

«Can I help you?»

«Captain Morimura?»

«Yes», he confirmed. «Can I help you?»

«Why did you interrupt your training?», Hongo asked. It was quite amusing watching him pretend to care, just for the sake of bullying.

«I didn't interrupt it», the guy replied. «I'm done with my schedule».

«If you want some extra work, you just have to ask», Hongo said. «Wait, what do you mean you're done with the schedule?»

Morimura looked at him. If the guy wasn't lying, it was impressive. It was done with a two-hour schedule in less than an hour. To most of the new recruits, if they managed to reach the end, it took twice the time elapsed.

«Group C, then. I guess you already have experience, right?» The guy nodded. «So your choices are, you can go home, or pick someone and have free training on the courts».

«I want a match», he replied.

«Well, as I said, you can choose someone who...»

«A match with _you_ ». The guy looked him right in the eyes.

Morimura stopped. Then smiled. «You can start avoiding to interrupt me while I'm talking. Is that clear?»

«Yes, Captain». The guy nodded, but did not low his gaze.

«Then, fly down, kid», Hongo interrupted. He had already opened Candy Crush again. Morimura prevent himself to set the phone down of the bleachers. Maybe along with his owner. «The ranking matches will be held soon. If you're masochist enough to challenge the Captain, you can do that then».

«Thank you». Morimura guessed his tone was eloquent enough for Hongo. The guy shrugged, but shut his damn mouth. He turned to the guy. «He is right. Internal challenges will be free, in few days, for defined times. We want a precise idea of players' capacity at first, to sort the ones who want a competitive training, and the ones who are here just to play. Rikkai's rule is based on differentiated programs, to take out the best from everyone. Once the program is started, everyone's position in the club will be clearer».

The guy nodded again. Morimura opened his mouth to greet him away.

«I can tell you from now. I'm suited for competitive. I can challenge you now».

Hongo snorted. «Look, honey pie, we...»

«Language, Hongo». Morimura crossed his arms. He looked down to the guy again. He had an interesting gaze. Morimura should have sent him to do fifty or sixty laps for impertinence, but well, why not? If he really wanted a challenge, he could have got it. Starting the new year showing the recruits what _really_ meant to enter Rikkai Tennis Club could have been a good idea. «What's your name?»

«Yukimura Seiichi», the kid answered, and smiled. It wasn't a really kind smile, though. More a challenging one.

Yukimura Seiichi... he had already heard it. He probably came from Rikkai Junior High tennis team, he guessed.

«Fine, then», Morimura said. «Wait for me at Court 1. Hongo, you're to referee».

Yukimura nodded and got away, not without a satisfied smile. If he would've kept it, was all to see.

«Are you fucking serious?», Hongo turned towards him. «Captain Shibata would have sent him down the bleachers with a kick in his...»

«I am Captain now», Morimura replied, coldly. Comparisons with the former Captain was the last thing he needed. _I'm Captain now_. And his would have been the rules. He wanted to play.

«Get ready. I'm taking the racket».

Hongo didn't add anything, but Morimura felt his gaze on him. Well, screw him. He could think what the hell he wanted. He would have got his part, too, soon.

* * *

...

* * *

Oh well. Here we go.

I hope the first OCs introduction didn't come out too confusing. If there's something blurry, please tell me. Thanks to everyone who has followed/faved this story, that means a lot to me! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter too!

 _Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi_

 _ **Come on, come on, put your hands into the fire** [Thirteen Senses - Into the Fire]_


	3. Chapter 3

**3\. This is it, boys, this is war - what are we waiting for?**

«The best of one set match. Morimura Shinobu VS Yukimura Seiichi. Yukimura to serve».

Morimura reached the baseline. A lot of people were already gathering on the bleachers. They seemed to have completely forgotten the practice schedule.

Whatever. He could have let go for that day, and give them an example of what level the club was expecting from them instead.

He had let the boy serve first. Yukimura had greeted him with a nod, and the look in his eyes seemed to tell Morimura to not underestimate him. Morimura rolled the racket in his hands. The grip were brand new.

He pitched forward, racket in his right hand, ready to receive.

Yukimura moved to serve.

It was a fast first serve, but right in the centre of the service box. Morimura hit the ball right after it bounced, trowing it towards the opposite corner. 0-15. He smiled. Nice shot, though still predictable.

The next serve was slower, bit this time near the centre service line. A couple of rallies, and Yukimura didn't reach his return shot at the baseline. 0-30.

Morimura took the receiver position again. He recalled something else about the boy. Yukimura Seiichi, former captain of Rikkai's Junior High Tennis Club. Morimura attended Junior High elsewhere, but he had heard about him, something about three kids leading Rikkai at the top of the Nationals. He wished he bothered to get more information. There would be time for that.

Yukimura started again with a more powerful service, still in the center of the service box. Morimura easily hit it back, and responded at the weaker return shot with a drop volley which fell right after the net. Yukimura couldn't reach it. 0-40.

The guy didn't seem concerned. He couldn't keep a single service ball, but he still looked calm.

The next serve was near the tramline, but still too slow for Morimura to not reach it. His backhand return serve crossed the court towards the opposite corner, but Yukimura was already there, and he closed the point with a forehand to the empty half-court. 15-40

Well, that was a nice shot. The guy had predicted exactly what Morimura meant to do, and made him fall in his own trick. Hongo whistled from the umpire chair.

It hadn't been enough to hold his serve, though. Yukimura's next first serve ended against the net, and Morimura returned his second serve with a winner on the right tramline. He was leading with an early break.

«Ohi, Captain». Hongo bended down from his chair while Morimura was passing next to him to switch courts. «This kid... Good serve. Something in mind, I tell you. I've already seen this face. No-one's that calm while losing, unless he's planning your murder».

«Thank you for the advice», Morimura sighed.

He glanced at the kid. Well maybe he wasn't planning a murder, but he had indeed something in mind. He stood at the baseline, unaware of all the murmurs and cheers from the bleachers – cheers who was mostly for him; everybody likes a rebel who pops out from nowhere to challenge the Captain on his first day. The audience was clearly having fun.

Morimura reached the baseline. Now it was his turn.

He served on the center serve line. Yukimura moved forward and hit a half-volley, and answered to Morimura's flat backhand with a lob to the left corner. Morimura needed to get back to reach it, and hit the ball with a crossed forehand to the baseline. 15-0.

Morimura pushed away the sweat from his forehead. He didn't really expect that half-volley. Too much paperwork and not enough practice for him in those late weeks. Maybe he was the one who needed to restart from the basics.

Yukimura headed back to the baseline. His stubborn gaze started to become irritating.

Morimura served on the center again. Yukimura hadn't been fast enough to reach the ball this time. 30-0.

30-15. Morimura served to the left, Yukimura answered with a crossed forehand to the right, and succeeded.

Okay. That shot wasn't impossible. Morimura thought the guy wouldn't have reached it, and let his guard down for a second. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

His next first serve was almost a meter out. Shit. He took a deep breath. He had to keep his focus on. That kid… He wasn't one to play while thinking about dinner.

His second serve was slow, and Yukimura answered with a fast forehand. Morimura hit it back, but Yukimura didn't fail to answer. His forehand was fast and precise, and Morimura found himself incapable to force him to a backhand. All he could do was hit the ball and sent it across the net, without the chance to give it the trajectory he wanted to. Yukimura was controlling the rally, and all he could do was follow the ball across the court. The final drop-shot surprised him, and found him unable to reach it. 30-30.

30-40. That kid was forcing him in long rallies, and had the ability to keep them under his control. He forced Morimura to reach the net, and then tossed the ball behind his shoulders.

The last rally ended with a Morimura's low-volley hitting the net and bouncing back. Shit.

«Game, Yukimura! 1-ALL!»

To remember: avoid long rallies.

Morimura reached the bench, and grabbed a towel to dry his hair from sweat. Thrice the guy caught him off guard, and thrice he took the chance to overcame him and get the point.

A murmur surrounded the court. Morimura realized that the last rallies had been played in a funeral silence, replaced by whispers and then louder chatting as the game had ended. It wasn't difficult to guess what they were talking about.

A freshmen who breaks Captain's service game. Not the result everyone expected, obviously.

Morimura took a sip of water and then got up. Even the few ones who were still doing their own practice now were watching the match. They were offering an interesting show indeed.

It was Yukimura service game again.

It became easy for Morimura to break back to love in less than two minutes. The kid hadn't a bad service, but still too slow and too predictable for him. Morimura just needed two return aces on the baseline and two more well-placed shots on the tramlines to grab the game.

He went back to serve. Yukimura was clearly wanting to trail him into long rallies, where his excellent control of the ball would have forced his opponent into his rhythm and then wrong-footing him with a shot in his uncovered zone.

A useless skill, if he didn't allow him to drag it on for more than two shots.

«Game, Morimura! 3-1!»

He held his second service game to 30 for two doubles faults.

A risk worth taking. Morimura moved to the baseline to receive. Hongo gave him thumbs-up from the umpire chair, Mormura ignored him.

He had hit only first serves. He wouldn't dare to gave him his second serve. A slow shot would have allowed Yukimura to try and take control of the ball, and Morimura shouldn't allow him to do so. Even if that meant losing points with unforced double-faults.

Morimura trusted his first serve, but he knew his second serve was still too weak to be decisive in a game. Another thing he needed to work on.

As much as learning how to prevent Yukimura to move him like a puppet every time he didn't manage to shut him up with an ace. Damn kid.

He stopped at the baseline, ready to receive again. Remember. Be fast. Be fast. _Be fast._

He took the first point with a smash on Yukimura's attempt of volley. 0-15.

Next serve, still two slow. Morimura's backhand was slow too. Yukimura answered on the opposite side of the court, almost forcing him to dive to reach the ball. Morimura kept his balance. Next answer was on the center. Easy. Morimura sent it on the opposite baseline. He managed to take control of the rally, at last, but Morimura wasn't intentioned to give up already. Yukimura came at the net to answer with a volley. Morimura took the chance and hit a lob, meant to land far behind his opponent, but Yukimura run after it and hit a return lob towards him.

Morimura smiled. That was praying for a smash. The ball was so slow he could have hit it with his eyes closed. Yukimura was still at the baseline, his back turned to the net, unable to react. Morimura jumped, hit the ball and smashed it in the empty opposite court.

15-All.

He heard the ball fall behind his back.

He turned to see. Fuck. It was really there. But he knew he had hit it. He _felt_ the impact with the racket's sweet spot. He felt its force against the chords, its heavy top-spin when he sent it towards Yukimura's side of the court.

It was impossible he had missed it. And still...

Yukimura was serving again. That wasn't the right time to wonder about his imagination. _Just don't let him force you in long rallies._ Oh, yeah, so easy to tell. The key was a powerful answer to his serve. But will it be enough?

Yukimura served near the baseline. Morimura hit a pass, but Yukimura reached it like he had read his mind.

Forehand, backhand, forehand. Morimura hit has hard as he could, but the ball was hit back every _damn_ time.

He ran right to hit a forehand, and sent it right to the opposite corner, too far for Yukimura to reach it.

The ball rolled at his feet.

30-15!

He heard the murmurs on the bleachers like they came from far, far away.

He missed it. Again. And again he could have bet both his hands he had hit it. Damn, he was also sure he had hit it _in_ , even if it was so close to the line.

Morimura blinked, once, twice, thrice. He looked at his hand. This ball was in his racket's path. This ball has _hit_ his racket chords.

He grasped his hand over the grip, took a deep breath. Yukimura was about to serve again.

Morimura bent his knees, grabbed his racket until his knuckles became pale white. He stared at his opponent. He would not miss a single move, from them on.

* * *

Morimura sat on the bench. His back was covered in sweat, his lips salty as he had drank sea water. He sank the head in the towel, his forehead was burning like he was sick with flu. He could feel his heart pounding under the temples.

He glanced up, just over the fabric. Yukimura was still at the center of the court, where he left him after the final handshaking. He didn't even feel his hand while grabbing it, as he had barely felt the consistence on the grip in his right hand.

It had been like when you sleep on your arm, and when you wake up you have to wait several minutes before the tingling stops and you could _touch_ things again. Yukimura may have had a frozen hand more than a burning hand covered in sweat, he did not know. He could have had an hand covered in scale rather than fur, _he couldn't have told it._ Damn kid.

Yukimura finally moved, slowly, like he didn't have the eyes of the entire public concentrated on him. The silence which surrounded the court would soon be filled with murmurs. Morimura glanced around, his face still half-hidden under the towel. Some of the new freshmen looked as shocked. Sweat kept falling from his hair, a drop almost sting his left eye.

Hongo came and sat next to him, throwing him a water bottle.

«Okay, what did that kid do? Hypnosis? Magic? _Petrificus Totalus_?»

Morimura drank half of the bottle in one sip. It was warm, at least he could still perceive the temperature in his mouth. He looked again towards Yukimura, who had just passed over the bleachers and headed right toward the locker room. A couple of guys called him back but he didn't give a sign to have heard anything.

Morimura looked at him until he disappeared behind the bleachers. He recalled to have had the same reaction after his first loss in Regional Selection Finals, the previous year. Yeah, they won the tournament, but he _had lost his match_ , and was so pissed off he wouldn't even look his teammates in the eyes. He realized only later how childish he had been, but, even looking in retrospect, he wouldn't have acted differently. All defeats burned, and some more than others, and there was nothing to be ashamed in a childish reaction. Defeat after defeat, you learn to accept them, but you need to practice first. Asou's words, obviously.

On his hand, Morimura would've liked to talk about it as an easy victory. A 6-1 would have make think of it as it at least. Bullshit. It had been a damn hard match. He drank the rest of the bottle, then threw it to Hongo.

«Send everyone back to the courts. Make them finish the training schedule for today».

Nothing else for him today. Nothing. All the idea of going to the gym became ridiculous. How could he, if he barely felt his own body? At least he could still stand on his feet. If he would have needed to be brought out of the court in a litter, that would've been a show no-one would have missed. Maybe it'd became more popular than his Doraemon underwear. Shit. He didn't need to feel worse.

«Captain?»

«I've paperwork that needs to get done». He roughly dried his hair with the towel. An headache started to push from behind his eyes, and his hand prickled. Damn kid.

«You sure everything's okay?»

 _I won't fall for it, Hongo_. «It's okay». All the fish in the ocean would have drown before he would show any weakness to him. «Just do what I asked you to. I want your evaluations on the working groups on my desk as soon as possible».

«Roger». Hongo didn't seem enthusiast. Whatever. Not his problem. What really concerned him was reaching Captain's office before his right hand started to tremble again. Damn kid.

He managed to reach the office, almost stumbling once or twice in his way. _Damn kid_. Now that the match was ended and all the adrenaline drained away, he felt like half of the earth's gravity were gone. Did he forget how to walk properly? His racket could've been made of paper for the weight he actually felt. Except it was not. His view was as in a misty day. _Damn. Kid._

He then found Matsui still where he left her, scribbling on the last papers.

«I'm almost done. Both meanings». She rubbed her eyes, yawned loudly.

Morimura nodded, reaching his chair. He sat and turned his back to her, pretending to watch something on the cork board on the wall. He closed the eyes, and forced his body to relax. _Damn kid._

Matsui kept writing on a paper after the other, he could hear the scribble of the pen behind his back. He was surprised she had almost finished; having terrible handwriting did probably help you to understand other people's even worse handwriting. Morimura recalled that he spent two days doing the work last year, half of the time needed to translate what the hell was written on the forms. He glanced behind his shoulder. She didn't raise her gaze, not even to look at the clock. Brilliant. Morimura wasn't in the mood to do conversation or answer questions.

He was used to keep his focus high during a match. After that loss in Regionals the year before, while he was sobbing in the bathroom, ready to curse everyone who could have looked for him, he had swore no-one in the world would have beat him for breaking his concentration anymore. They could beat him because they were better players. They could beat him with tricks, even injuring him on purpose, he didn't care. But never, never by pulling him out of the match before the last point. And this became his greatest strength as a player, the one who assured him a secure place in regular string despite every other flaw he could have. Even when he started in a disadvantaged position, even when he was losing, he was never pulled out of the match. He could keep fighting to gain even only one point, but he wouldn't give up, not for a single second.

He looked at his hand. He kept opening and closing his fingers, they started to be sensitive again. At some time he needed to harden his grip until he felt his bones crack, to be sure to not let the racket slip away from his hand.

What the hell. He scratched the back of his right hand, carving red signs with the nails. He still felt nothing. He had needed until the last drop of his focus to stay within the match. Hit the ball. Send it over the net. Don't send him off the court. Hit hard. Hit harder. _Don't let him hit back for Heaven's sake._

He grabbed the table's edge. His fingertips still pricked like hell.

Morimura never passed out in his life, as he could recall. But he guessed that before you lose consciousness the world started to fade, the noises became weaker, and the body would feel like an empty shell moved by someone else. And damn, he got close to that, too much close.

He tightened his eyes, bend his head against the seat-back. However he developed that, it was a really interesting technique. Dangerous, maybe, but interesting. Yet not enough to defeat him. It may have assured him the throne on Junior High tournaments, but High School was another matter.

He smiled. Maybe there were others like him, between the new recruits. Having first year a such high level could motivate the regulars and the elder players to keep practicing and take the club seriously. If they really care at all.

Morimura turned back, and opened his eyes right in time to see Matsui finishing the last form.

If his teammates didn't care, he would teach them to do so. This was the Captain's duty, after all.

* * *

«I've heard of your baptism by fire, yesterday».

Asou entered the club room, his hands plunged in pockets. He closed the door behind him, stopping the buzz of so many people outside on the courts.

«I've only had a match», Morimura sighed. He searched through the papers Matsui had left on his desk the day before. Geez, she had even organized them in alphabetical order, and pinned the related sheets together. Looks like he could keep her after all.

Asou took a chair and sat down in front of him.

«I come from the Committee meeting. Kizuki said you crushed the freshman to dust. Wanna hasten the selection convincing half of the club to drop off after only one day by scaring the shit out of them?»

«Please don't», Morimura sighed again. He put the papers aside, switching on the old club's Mac. «I only had a match. The guy asked, I've seen no reasons to refuse».

«You mean you wanted to show off».

Morimura tapped his fingers on the keyboard. That damn computer took ages to start working. «I thought watching a match could have been encouraging to the new recruits».

The former Captain would have laughed at the request and kicked the guy back to the changing room. He would have never even thought to answer the challenge. It was the way Captain Shibata used to act. High on the clouds, looking paternally to the mortals down on Earth.

He barely bothered to talk to the other regulars, never even pretended to notice the other members of the club. He didn't ask for respect, he didn't bothered to deserve it. He just put himself on a throne, and expected everyone to think of him as a king. And they did. Everyone did.

He glanced at Asou. It had been Shibata-senpai that had wanted both of them in the team. He didn't ask, didn't test them, he did nothing. Just came out of the blue and told them they would have been regulars from then on, with no further explanation.

He made Morimura vice-captain at the end of the school tournaments season, after half of the third years was already retired. Morimura had supposed he was his way for teaching him, to introduce him to the role of Captain that would have passed to the younger boy after his retirement. And Morimura wanted to learn. He didn't like Shibata-buchou at all - sometimes, really, he felt like he hated him - but he respected his authority, and admired the confidence he had in taking decisions. He always wondered whether Shibata's self-esteem was real or just an act. "I can look like that too", Morimura sighed. "But I can't be like that".

And his new teammates would be better not expecting him to be so. He glanced at Asou. He was looking after the registration forms on the desk. «I think you'll need some extra calligraphy classes». He arched is bow.

«That's not me». His calligraphy grades were quite good though. Perfectionist freak, his desk mate once called him. «It's the new manager-in-try».

«Do we have a manager?» Asou smiled. «I've thought you were the less likely person to hire a manager, since...»

«Got it, thank you». Would people ever stop mentioning the Doraemon accident in a lifetime? «She offered to do the paperwork. I thought I could at least give her a try».

Usually it was a member of the team in the manager's position, but thinking over it, the day before, Morimura couldn't imagine anyone of his teammates suited for that role, except him and Asou. But he couldn't tell the guy to do all the work, and he couldn't handle everything by himself too. Who else could he ask to? Hongo? Like, never. Kuroba, Minami? Neither. Mouri? You must be kidding me. He couldn't rely in anyone of his current teammates not even to attend practice, less enough to a responsibility role. Something else that should be fixed.

«Shouldn't Hongo be helping you yesterday? Have you already sorted them in groups?»

Something like that. «I've an idea», he admitted. «Hongo is still out there, today. Sent the girl with him. She said she already worked with practice schedules before. At least I did ask her to keep Hongo focused on the courts, and to throw his damn phone down of the bleachers if she has to».

«Someone should definitely do that», Asou agreed. «We need to arrange practice schedules before the beginning of next week. We'll also have definitive members of the club for that date».

«Likely. I hope so. Perhaps». Like he would ever get something done in his Captain career. Maybe he could just drop off, leave everything to Asou and switch to the knitting club. He rubbed his temples, the phantom of a headache pushing from behind his eyes.

«Well, at least it's done. Maybe I can have a look on the courts?», Asou suggested.

Morimura nodded. «Yeah. Like, thanks. I'll come over in five minutes. I asked the other regulars to come to the courts today, too. Please check if they're there».

«And if they're not?» Asou's voice said that he considered their presence not less than a miracle. Morimura couldn't but agree.

«I'll release the Leviathan against them. I've a strand of each one's hair to train his sniff».

«Make sure it's hungry enough», Asou replied, before heading out the door.

Morimura shrugged. This would be another long, long day.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Morimura found Asou talking with Matsui at the top of the bleachers. Hongo wasn't in sight, probably hidden somewhere with his phone. More probable to find him on Twitter.

He sighed. Most of the new recruits were running around the courts, along with some older club members. He glanced around: none of the other regulars was in sight. He couldn't say he was surprised. He needed to talk with Asou about this. Neither of them had a glimpse of Shibata's authority, but if they worked together, they could at least achieve some respect.

Asou stooped towards Matsui, being like twice taller than her - and Morimura too. He rather see the guy sat down on a chair, definitely -, and the girl was pointing to someone in the court, describing circles in the air with her finger. Asou was listening, nodding from time to time. Morimura approached as she slapped Asou in the nose after a wide gesture. «Oh, crap. I'm sorry, senpai».

Asou smiled, rubbing his nose through his fingers. «Don't worry. It's still in his place».

«Well, as I was saying», she reprised waving with her hands, and Asou wisely took a step back, «if you only make them run, you know, you're auditioning for the marathon club, right?»

«That's not the case», Asou answered with his usual calm, patient voice. «Laps are only the first step. You will agree, if someone couldn't afford not even running laps, it's little likely they could handle what comes after».

«You think so», she glanced at Morimura, and smiled. «But maybe there's someone whose stamina is awful, but has a damn good service, or is a volley master, or whatever. You just don't know. And maybe you'll never will if you just make him running laps and do thousand swings until next year».

«But for the next year they'll improve their stamina».

«Or they'll drop off the club because they came here to play and not to run around the courts for a year».

«Being a club member isn't compulsory», Morimura interjected, coming next to Asou. «No-one is forced to stay here, if they don't agree with club policy». He glared at her with severity. Having the girl doing the paperwork in his place was okay, but if she started questioning club's rules on her first day she could instantly become unnecessary.

«If your policy makes some potential members leave the club it's our loss more than theirs», she argued.

«I get your point, Matsui-san. But a minimum level of stamina is the only thing we ask. Without it we could hardly last half of a match, and Rikkai doesn't need a player that collapses on the court after few games», Asou answered. «A good player needs a basic balance to start work on».

Tips for himself: let Asou talk in his place more often. He said the same things Morimura would have said, but without all the swear he would have put in it.

Matsui scratched her hear.

«Got it. Guess you'll know this better. I just thought that if you let everyone have a try on court, you might be surprised». She glanced at Morimura. «Frankly, I didn't understand Hongo-senpai's criteria for groups' division. I've pointed them down», she pulled out a paper from her pocket, «but actually, I didn't…»

«Stop there», Morimura glanced up. He cursed the moment he trusted Hongo for that. He probably gave the girl a totally random order just to drop off and leave all the work to her.

«So you thought that if I see them play in a practice match today, maybe I can have a clearer idea of what their level is». Morimura added.

«Basically. I've already started working on the schedules, by the way». Well. That was good. «But I mean matches _between_ them. Just let them sort themselves in different groups according to the level they think they can afford. Self-perception is also important. This will save us a preliminary work. Then, you'll just have to watch them play and make your own idea, maybe switching places to test them better».

Morimura scratched his chin. The idea wasn't that bad though. He doubted of everyone's capacity to evaluate themselves with precision, but it would be a starting point indeed.

He glanced at Asou, who nodded. «I think it'd be only between the ones who are still able to stand up».

Some of the newbies were on the bleachers, panting hard or lain on the ground, the chest going up and down for deep breaths. It was very unlikely they could afford whatsoever match if they didn't work hard on their stamina first.

Matsui followed his gaze and smiled. «I also though we shouldn't sort groups at all, but single schedules».

«What are you talking about?»

«Hongo-senpai told me you used to make rigid groups based on the general level, but I think this could be inaccurate on the long period», she explained.

Morimura arched his eyebrows, while Asou hid an amused smile under the hand. For God's sake. Did she want to decide everything by herself now? «It worked for years, Matsui-san. And it isn't rigid at all. You can easily switch to an higher group if you work hard», Asou told her.

«I'm not talking about that and I'm not discussing the efficiency of your method», she insisted. «I'm just proposing an advice to improve them. Like, instead of consider their general level, you'll look closely to their detailed level in every statistic and make a more precise training schedule to help them improve their personal weaknesses. Like, player A and B could both have awful stamina, but what if A has a great technique and B as very good power but little precision? They couldn't work with the same schedule»

Yeah. And then they could build rainbow stairways and get some unicorns to travel to Candyland.

«I get your point», Asou replied, «but you'll understand that what you're asking » _is science-fiction_ «requires a lot of time and energy to be sorted well. Consider also the fact that not everyone in this club has signed up for competitions, so it would be a wasted time in the end».

Morimura couldn't have said it better. Why wasting time to fix the weaknesses of someone who has only interest to play tennis to fill his afternoons? With tournaments season approaching, they really need to focus only on the potential regulars for the official matches.

«I'm not asking your time, I can handle this by myself». Matsui didn't give up. «I mean, why not. What if someone really signed up for fun, as you said, but hey, with a personal working schedule he improves so much that decides to compete in the tournaments and becomes the key player to win the National Finals?»

Morimura cursed between his teeth. «Yeah, guess you're right. And what if this incredible player signed in baseball club by mistake? We should check between all their members to be sure. And why not between the members of every other club in school?» Included the knitting club, which he was planning to join as soon as possible.

«The Captain is right, Matsui-san», Asou added, gently. «If we follow your way, we will get everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Maybe there are lots of potential good players who hadn't signed up for the club, for whatever reason. How could we know?» Asou opened his arms. «We can't. Bu we don't have to. We just have to work with what we know. And let people make their own decisions».

Yeah, he should let Asou talk in his place like always. He should hire him to do speeches out of the club too. Also dealing with his parents, why not.

Matsui didn't seem convinced. Her gaze wandered towards the new recruits. Only few of them were still running. Morimura looked closer, trying to memorize who they were. That Yukimura guy was among them; he wasn't surprised.

«Guess you're right», she eventually sighed. «But I don't want to go around the school within a tennis ball costume trying to recruit new members. Well, if you really could provide me a tennis ball costume, or maybe I can ask to a girl to my class from sewing club and…», Morimura glared at her. «Oh, nevermind. I was saying, I only want to make the best work I could with the ones who chose to play tennis. I mean, I'm here, am I not? Just let me be useful».

Morimura glanced at Asou, who shrugged. Some people were approaching, nodding to Morimura as they passed. No-one of them were a regular. Where the hell were them?

«Let me have a try. Just for today, let the new recruits sort themselves out and play against each other. Like, tie-break style matches, round robin, something quick, so all of them will be able to play today. And just observe them. If this will turn out to be totally useless, well, the worst thing that could happen is wasting a single afternoon. But I don't think it will be the case».

Morimura scratched his cheek. He looked at the courts. The warming up was almost finished.

«I think we could try», said Asou, his arms crossed at his chest. «Beside everything, it could be an encouragement to everyone who's still not sure wether to join or not. Let them play, I mean. Lots of people quit after few weeks complaining about the lack of practice matches».

«And there's a reason for that», Morimura pointed out. What was the point in doing practice matches for those who barely know how to hold a racket?

«I know», Asou nodded, switched the weight on the other foot. «But they could experience it on firsthand. And they'll start to know what their weaknesses are, to then try and fix them».

«I really doubt of that», Morimura cracked his fingers. «More likely, it will be a total mess and we won't understand anything at all».

He looked at Matsui, who was smiling at him, and then at Asou, who was smiling too. Was there already a conspiracy against him? He had been Captain only for few weeks, for God's sake! «Whatever. If you think it'll work, then go on. Our only alternative at the moment seems to be the data gathered by Hongo», his mouth curled in a grin, «aka ».

«Rtf. We don't have MS Word in that computer from the early twenties. Matsui-san, if you'll ever work with that, I highly suggest you convert everything in Pdf before printing, unless you want…»

«Can we skip computer lessons and get to the courts?», Morimura narrowed his eyes. «The warming up is over».

«I'll get my list. Asou-senpai, would you mind to gather the recruits? I'll join you in a minute».

«That's okay. Morimura-kun, may we go?»

Morimura nodded. He still wasn't convinced about this experiment at all. But it would be still better than doing nothing. And "nothing" would be exactly what he'd obtain if he'd wait his other teammates to come and help him. Whatever. If the club'd need a revolution to start working properly, three was a good number to start it.

* * *

...

* * *

Hello there, and thanks for reading. I'm sorry for the OC-centered chapter. The first draft of the MoriYuki match was narrated from Sanada's POV, but I was highly unsatisfied with the outcome. I felt like having an external impression of Yukimura and his tennis would have been more interesting, even if that meant taking the risk and putting a fully OC-narrated chapter so early. Sanada's grumpy POV will come back again next chapter, so stay tuned.

I want to thank _Kiyoshi MizukiAtobe_ for the kind comment and the follow. As always, every feedback is accepted, over both grammar and characters/plot.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, see you next week!

 _Fanny_

 _Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi._

 _ **This is it, boys, this is war - what are we waiting for?**_ _[Fun - Some Nights]_


	4. Chapter 4

**4\. Honey, this mirror isn't big enough for the two of us**

Three had been a good number to start a revolution. Three as two plus one, when Sanada and Yukimura found in Yanagi an unexpected ally. The number increased week by week. Niou, whose play was discontinuous but totally unpredictable. Marui, the guy who didn't last two laps in a row, but seemed to have a brand new technique every time you played against him. Jackal, who was like a rubber wall who sent you back every ball you threw at him, and finally Yagyuu, dragged out from the golf club by Niou, with his shots as powerful and as precise as bullets. Seven of them from their year, and by the time Kirihara joined the club there was no need for revolution anymore. The club was theirs. They was a team.

Sanada glanced behind his shoulders. Beside him and his former teammates, only few other recruits were still running. A couple of players lasted less than ten laps. Most of the other didn't made at fifteen. Sanada's punishment usually included thirty or more laps, and if middle school's track was smaller than this one, they were all trained enough to do so.

Worst thing was, no-one seemed to even care about people not finishing their assigned laps. Back in their club, those ones would have only run laps for training until they'd get enough stamina to not collapse on the ground after five mere minutes.

He looked at Yukimura. The guy was running, a small darker ring around his collar the only sign of strain. They couldn't find a moment to talk after the match the day before. He didn't think Yukimura would have said a word anyway. He was always like flare hidden beyond the ashes. They're always burning, though you can't see them. Neither you can predict when they burst into flames. One thing sure: they will.

He could almost see the bright fire underneath his skin. It was totally different from the time he got defeated by that Echizen in National Finals. Why a defeat in the most important match of junior competition seemed so insignificant compared to a loss in a training match? Sanada stretched his lips. A king could afford to lose a camp battle, he told himself, but can't afford the loss of his own throne. That's what Yanagi would have said, at least.

The guy have said nothing about Morimura's play yet. He claimed he hadn't seen enough. At his words, Yukimura had grabbed his things and left the room. He defeated _him_. What did it mean Yanagi hadn't seen enough?

Sanada shook his head, and kept running. Had they even an idea to how to hold a practice session?

As if to answer him, the Captain whistled to call them.

They started to gather towards the bleachers. That Asou was there, and the Captain too. Only the new members seemed to be called.

«Second and third years will follow the schedule assigned for today», Asou explained, as the crowd reached the two of them. «First years and newcomers, please stay here while the Captain explains you the program for today».

 _Why me_ , Sanada read on Morimura's lips, while seniors and juniors left to join their assigned activity.

His respect for their new Captain got even lower. He always let that Asou to speak in his place. Was him at least able to make a decision by himself and force his club into it?

Yanagi always kept them informed about High School Tennis Club. Their priority had always been to focus on Middle School tournaments and competitions, but they liked to keep an eye open on their imminent future.

Rikkai High had a great reputation, Sanada recalled. Three-times National Champion in the last ten years, it had been runner-up the previous year, after winning both Kanagawa and Kantou Tournaments in straight sets. It didn't seem to be a club of losers. That Morimura surely wasn't one, after how he dominated against Yukimura the day before.

But a good player didn't necessary make a good Captain, Sanada knew that well.

The two of them were joined by a girl, who run towards the bleachers losing sheets every step she took.

Jackal picked them up for her, who kept walking unaware of her sowing.

 _We are in good hands indeed._ He guessed the girl was the manager Yagyuu was talking about the day before. Things were always getting better.

Jackal gave the papers to Asou, she wasn't still realizing she had lost them. Morimura narrowed his eyes. What a circus.

Marui laughed from behind him.

«She seems a little bit dense, doesn't she?»

«You shouldn't judge people you don't know, Marui-kun», Yagyuu replied.

 _Pop._

Marui's decision to quit chewing didn't last much. Yanagi predicted three months. He didn't last two. Jackal came back, while the girl managed to gather her papers; Morimura finally decided to talk.

«You know tournaments season is approaching. Our tennis club is defending champion in Kanagawa Prefecture Preliminaries, which will start at the end of the month. I know everyone of you would like to have a chance to play. Our club custom had always had the newcomers following a basic training schedule until summer break». Matsui let the papers fall again. Asou sighed and picked them up from his feet. «And this will happen this year as well. However, it came to our attention that among you there are players who reached a high level in Junior High competition. So today we wanted to make an experiment». Morimura glanced at Asou, who nodded and took the floor.

«The ones who think to be ready for competition, please move to your right. The other please move to left».

Sanada took two steps right, without even thinking. No-one of his former teammates had a hesitation.

Along with them, ten or so other players took place in the competition group. The rest of the newcomers had moved to the left.

Morimura looked at them with half a smile. Maybe he did believe they were overestimating themselves. Good. Let him believe so.

This had never been their tactic. The name of the Big Three first, and of the Rikkai Dai Fuzoku then, had been a synonym of the top, of the enemy to defeat; the kings who held the crown of junior tennis circuit.

They never let the challengers underestimate them, but if this Captain wished to do so, it would only have been a further advantage for them.

«The ones who chose the left will be ball boys for today's practice. Tomorrow we will make a proper training schedule for all of you». Morimura looked at the ones to the right. «There are sixteen of you. Now I want you to sort yourself again. **«** The ones who think their level should be sorted as "highly advanced" in this club, take a step forward. If it is "advanced", stay where you are. If you think you can compete but your level is not good enough yet, don't be ashamed and take a step back. We just need to sort you according to your self-perceived level. There's no shame in having still lots of room to improve».

Sanada took a step forward, like everyone else in the group. As expected. This was ridiculous indeed. What did they want to achieve with such childish initiatives? Did they have so much time to waste? Morimura and Asou looked at each other, like they were unsure about what to do next.

He looked at Yukimura, but the guy seemed to have no reaction in front of this clear lack of leadership. He simply stared at the two players, expressionless, hands on the hips, waiting for instructions.

«Okay», Morimura scratched his hair. «Okay. So now sort yourself in...», he counted them», «four groups of four. Since you think you're all top-level, sort yourself as you like».

The circus went on and on.

Sanada joined Yukimura and Yanagi in one group. Yagyuu, Niou, Marui and Jackal had already sorted a group of their own.

The three of them were finally joined by a guy with round glasses Sanada didn't recall to have seen before. He greeted them with a nod and a large smile. Only Yanagi bothered to say hello.

They were given of further instructions. Two groups will play in court one, the others in court two. They would have played one group after the other. The matches would have been between groups, singles first, doubles were optional. Round robin, tie-break style. Two of them would have start, then another one could have challenged the winner, and so on.

What's the purpose of all this, someone asked.

Just play and don't think about it, Morimura answered. Just show what you can do.

Nothing more than exhibition matches, Sanada thought. He crossed his arms. He still was missing the point of all of this, or, better said, he understood their point, but also thought it was nonsense. What was the point of making them play totally random, without a method, without a purpose? If there were one, Sanada couldn't see it.

Sanada and his group remained in Court 1, while the rest of his former teammates moved to Court 2, just behind the fence. Morimura also moved there, while Asou and Matsui remained on the bleachers, waiting for the first group to decide the starters.

Sanada and the others moved towards the bleachers too. Yanagi pulled out his notepad from the pocket, _just in case_ , he would've probably said.

Sanada sat down, and waited for the practice to begin. Useless or not, watching the play of their potential rivals wouldn't be a total waste of time in the end.

Or maybe yes.

«Their level is unsurprisingly low». _And this guys evaluate themselves as a ten_. «Self perception could be misled like few other things», Yanagi muttered, after the first tie-break match ended 7-4, with poorly played shots for both sides. «I could say that after seeing Seiichi's match yesterday they should have had a more clear idea of what this club call a _ten_. But maybe I've been too optimistic about people's perception of their own capacities. Seeing a good play and think "I can do it too" is one of the most common mistakes in the world».

Sanada didn't care. He was just disappointed. From his position he could see Court 2, where Yagyuu and Jackal were playing against each other, offering a completely different show. Someone gasped loudly after Yagyuu's Laser Beam, and even louder when Jackal managed to answer it.

A look on his back confirmed that Asou too was watching Court 2, while Matsui was still looking at the miserable play in front of her - three double faults in a row and the second contender lost in less than two minutes -, and according to her face she was totally aware of how pitiful it was.

Well, they'll see a very different show. It was their turn now.

Sanada looked at Yanagi and then at Yukimura, but the latter was no more sat next to him. He had already stood up and grabbed his racket, ready to play.

Sanada pressed his lips. He wasn't eager to play _that_ Yukimura. He couldn't read Yanagi's mind, but he knew him well enough to understand he came to the same conclusions.

Yukimura wouldn't play for win today. He would have played to show everything he had. And talking about him, it meant _a lot_. Expecting him to hold back just a little would be a fake hope. Expecting him to play fair, well, it was in doubt too.

Sanada nodded at Yanagi. If someone should've to take the tsunami right in the face, with also a chance to survive, it was him. He stood up to join his friend in the challenge.

«I'll go».

Sanada turned back. The guy with glasses grabbed his racket and jumped down the bleachers, reaching Yukimura in two long steps.

«Don't think we ever introduced», he lend his hand out. «I'm Takahashi. Hey, no need, I know who you are. Everyone knows after yesterday. Let's have a good match, yeah?»

Yukimura nodded, shook his hand and offered him a smile. He didn't give a further reply. He grabbed his racket tightly, and reached the opposite side of the court.

«I let you serve», he said, like Morimura said to him the day before. «I choose this side».

«Okay, okay». Takahashi rolled the racket on his fingertip, a play Sanada always found useless and irritating. Tennis was not a circus.

«Won't you stop him, Genichirou?», Yanagi asked.

Sanada looked at the guy. «He seems pretty confident».

«Because he has seen Seiichi being defeated, yesterday». Yanagi looked at the two on the court. «It's another thing that deceives frequently. When a strong player is defeated by someone happened to play better», Sanada liked Yanagi's choice of words, more than he'd have liked "someone stronger", «it provokes the fake perception that the defeated one was somehow weaker, fallible. It makes people believe "i can beat them". Perception that is usually false».

Sanada nodded. «You're saying I should stop him because he's underestimating Yukimura and could get hurt?»

«I think it's too late for that now».

Sanada looked back at the court. The guy - Takahashi - had served first.

It was a weak serve, and Yukimura took his chance on it. He answered by backhand, right on the guy's feet, who screamed as the ball bounced behind his back. 0-1.

«Woah», the guy adjusted his glasses, looked at the ball. A ball boy threw it back to him. «Woah. Nice shot. Like. Woah». He bounced the ball, then threw it toward Yukimura, as a reward. «Seems like you're not kidding at all. Okay. Let's play, then».

Yukimura served on the baseline, on Takahashi's backhand. The guy demonstrated it wasn't his weak point at all, hitting the ball back to Yukimura, who answered with a crossed forehand. Takahashi hit it back. The rallied on the baseline until the guy saw a chance and came to the net to close the point with a well-placed volley. 1-1.

 _Maybe we were underestimating him_. Or maybe not. Sanada hadn't watched enough to determine if it had been a lucky shot or a brilliant technique. Not everyone could easily win a point to Yukimura though. The Child of God, he was called back in Junior High. How many matches had he seen him playing without dropping a single point for the opponent? How many matches he had won to love, how many matches he had played without even bother to start playing?

It seemed to belong to another life. It was like they had lived in an illusion until now. Echizen had been the exception. He didn't altered the rule. But there, in their Kingdom, Yukimura already failed to win the crown. And now this guy popped out of nowhere destroyed the last glimpse of the myth of his invincibility. _No-one can win against him._ False. _No-one can steal a single game from him._ False. _No-one can win a point agains him._ Also false, false, false.

Without all of this, what remained, Sanada asked himself. He looked back at Yanagi. He was looking at the court, and didn't seem amused. He realized the gaze of Sanada on him.

«Genichirou. You better stop them now».

Sanada turned back toward the court. Yukimura had already served with an ace on the right tramline. Takahashi was serving again, an underhand serve Sanada himself would have taken as an insult. It was well placed, though. Yukimura's answer was weak, and Takahashi could easily close the point with a smash. 2-2.

«No». Sanada shook his head. «I can't protect him as if he was a child. He had to learn how to lose». They probably had underestimated how heated would have been competition in High School. They have been so naive, thinking that they would have only replied exactly what happened in Junior High. They've been careless.

«I've not asked you to stop them to protect _Seiichi_ », Yanagi replied.

After two long rallies, Yukimura won the point with a lob, but Takahashi took back the mini-break with another volley.

He was a good player when it concerned to come to the net. Maybe better than Marui, maybe not. Yukimura didn't now him, nor his play, and this went to his advantage. And about Takahashi...

«He probably had observed Seiichi very well yesterday», Yanagi confirmed his thoughts, as the player changed courts. «The problem is what Seiichi _didn't show_ yesterday».

Sanada had a light nod. Surely he didn't observe well enough. Did he notice how Morimura started to hit the most powerful shots he could, just to prevent Yukimura to drag him in a rally? Did he notice he rather lost points hitting the ball out or on the net than let Yukimura hit the ball back? It didn't seem so. And that was why Sanada was certain he would have lost. How quickly, he did not know.

Yukimura holds his next serve again with one well-placed backhand, after a rally that had seem like eternal. 3-4.

They've got all Asou's attention now. Matsui was whispering something in his ear, and the guy was nodding without take his eyes off the court. He didn't seem to have fun. Sanada clenched his fists. No-one was having fun, except for Takahashi.

«Woah. That was good, wasn't that?» He waved his racket like a banner. «I don't think I can do it twice. Hope I won't need to, yeah?»

He went to serve. He threw a ball up, and then moved to serve... and missed it. The ball rolled at his feet. Takahashi laughed.

«Oh, sorry, sorry. Clumsy me. Mom always told me». He grabbed back the ball, tossed it in the air. And missed it again. Double fault.

Takahashi didn't laugh. He looked at his hand, and then at the ball again. He went to bend and grab it, he stumbled on his feet.

«Sorry». Sanada barely heard his voice, so loud and cheerful just few seconds earlier. «Sorry».

He breathed hard, once, twice. Sanada forced himself to stay sit. He glanced back again, at Yanagi, who were watching impassible, at Asou, who had still his eyes stuck on the court.

Takahashi hit the ball. His first serve landed out of the left tramline.

The guy looked puzzled. How, he should be asking himself. I was sure it would have been in. His second serve didn't pass over the net, and fell back in his own court. Double-fault, 4-5.

It was Yukimura's turn to serve again. Takahashi took position on the baseline. He held the racket like it was an anchor. A very poor anchor against a Tsunami.

Yukimura served, and Takahashi hadn't been able to react. The serve was fast, hit the ground at his feet, and bounced through his legs.

«Ouch».

Takahashi's racket slip off his hand, he tripped and fell on his knees. «Shit». He rubbed his eyes with his right hand, the left arm the only thing that prevented him to fall face on the ground. He was panting hard. «What the...» The words died in his mouth. He opened his lips once again, and again, and again, like he was struggling for air, and spoke no more.

Yukimura didn't wait him to get up again. He knew he couldn't. He hadn't enough sense of touch anymore to get back on his feet.

He served without holding back. It was a kick serve, and missed the boy on the ground by two inches maybe. Someone held their breath. Someone screamed. The boy on the ground didn't react. Sanada knew why. He didn't see the ball coming. He didn't hear it. He didn't even feel the air moved by his passage.

It was 4-7. The tie-break was over. Yukimura won.

The court was as silent as a graveyard.

«Yukimura-kun». Asou's voice came from behind. «Please come here». The tone said it wasn't a request.

«We've been lucky it was only a tie-break». Yanagi said quietly. «I wouldn't have trusted to let him play in a longer match».

Sanada didn't reply. He didn't know what to think anymore. Yukimura did never overdo it. Yukimura knew what opponents required his full strength, and what did not. Sanada did't recall to have seen him act cruelly on a weaker opponent. But he had never played lightly, too. Sanada knew some players who felt guilty not letting their opponent win if not a game, at least a point; Yukimura weren't among them.

But few opponents he had met who had brought him using the Yips. Echizen. Yanagi. Sanada himself. He used it on that Shitenhouji's kid, but Sanada thought he was only showing off, a message not to the kid himself but to Seigaku. See what I can do. See who I am. He didn't want to harm, just to send a message. _I am back_.

With Morimura he'd needed to use it, but didn't have the chance. His opponent had been better than him in avoiding his tricks, and didn't fall in the trap. He may be an awful Captain, but indeed he was a good player. Sanada didn't remember one single player who had recognized Yukimura's intentions and prevented his techniques. Kudos for that.

Sanada wondered how many of them they would find from then on. How many people able to resist the Yips. How many people against whom his Fuurinkazan would be ineffective. How many people whose data would be impossible to gather. How many, how many, how many.

 _Never underestimate your opponent_ , Sanada thought. And it seemed like they did.

Was that the way for Yukimura to answer? Destroy every opponent he found on his path, from the weaker to the stronger? The Yukimura he knew would've never done that. But the Yukimura he knew was the Child of God, undefeated, sat on the top of the world, and he didn't need to be merciless. This one? He didn't know.

Yukimura walked towards Asou, with no hurry, his chin up. Takahashi was still on the ground; two ball boys had reached him, who was moaning wordless sounds. He wouldn't have been the first opponent Yukimura sent straight to the infirmary, though it had been so long since the last time.

Matsui jumped down the bleachers to reach them. Morimura had reached Asou, and was waiting next-to him for Yukimura to come. Neither of them seemed impressed. Quite contrary, Morimura seemed really pissed off.

The play on Court 2 had stopped too. Sanada realized all the courts were silent, as if Yukimura had used Yips on all of them to shut them up.

Yukimura went up to the stair and reached the two regulars in waiting. He was probably the only one who didn't seem nervous at all.

«Explain yourself», Morimura said as he reached them. He added nothing, just staring at him with his arms crossed.

«What do I need to explain, Captain?», Yukimura asked politely.

Sanada didn't recall the last time he heard him say "Captain" to someone else.

«We're a tennis club, Yukimura-kun. We play _tennis_ », Morimura raised his tone. «We don't send our fellow club mates in the infirmary for a practice match. What were you thinking?»

Two ball-boys were helping Takahashi to stand up, though the guy didn't seem able to walk yet. Stumbling, they walked out of the courts, toward the school building and the infirmary, the manager following them.

«I played tennis», Yukimura replied. He didn't even blink. He stared back at Morimura.

«Is this the way you play tennis?», the Captain was angry and did nothing to hide it. «Really? So every time we had a practice match I need to call a doctor to take care of your opponents? Or maybe I have to put you playing only against the wall for all the year?»

Yukimura didn't let the Captain intimidate him. «Maybe I just need to play with stronger opponents».

This seemed to shut Morimura up. But only for a few seconds. Asou looked at him, and Morimura took a deep breath.

«This is not your amusement park», he finally said. He talked slowly, as he was preventing himself to yell. «We're not here to fulfill your needs. This practice matches weren't for you to show off. We...»

«I thought they were, really», Yukimura interrupted him. «You said so. Wasn't them to check our level, to observe our play?»

Asou coughed quietly, like he was sending a message to Morimura.

The Captain took another deep breath. «I've already told you to not interrupt me while I'm speaking. Don't make me say it a third time».

«I was correcting you, as you were saying something false», Yukimura replied. «This _were_ exhibition matches, just for you to see what we ware capable of. Am I wrong?»

«Is this the only way you play tennis, Yukimura-kun?», Asou asked finally. «Knocking-out your opponent unconscious before the match ends?»

Of course it was not. Sanada shook his head. Yukimura didn't need to do that to win. But what was the impression they got? He tried the trick on Morimura, and failed, and then lost. He succeeded on Takahashi. And win, though he would've probably win even with his opponent still conscious.

«He played some well-placed points, but it was the best he could do», Yanagi said near Sanada's hear, as if he had read his mind. Sometimes Sanada really thought he could. «And he won that points just because Seiichi was too focused on trail him in a rally rather than get the point itself. It had been a match rotten since the beginning».

Sanada nodded. Yukimura lost this points for his own careless, but did he realize it? Was he ready to lose points in order to be able to use the Yips, or decided to use the Yips after losing the points? Sanada couldn't tell.

«What if it was?», Yukimura eventually asked. His tone was plain, but the challenge was subtended.

Morimura looked at Asou. Asou looked at Morimura. Both of them glanced at Yukimura.

«I fear you won't be allowed to play anymore. Not until you'll be able to learn fair play», Asou answered. He was definitely the diplomat of the two.

Why didn't Yukimura simply tell them this wasn't his only play style? What was he trying to achieve with that? If he wanted to make a positive impression, he clearly had failed.

He glanced at Yanagi, but his face was expressionless. He was following the chat, like everyone else around this court, his notepad still closed on his legs.

«What exactly did you find not fair in my game?», Yukimura asked politely, the challenge so clear between the lines.

Morimura looked like he would have gladly punch him in the face. «What do you find fair in knocking out your opponent and prevent him to play the match?», he asked finally. «What do you find fair in avoid playing? What's the point of even step on court if you don't want to play? What's more important than that?»

«Winning», Yukimura's answer was predictable as the first spring rain. «What's more important than that?»

Asou shook his head. Morimura snorted. «Oh, yeah, let me understand. Why don't you simply knock out your opponent in the locker rooms with a wood? You'll win even more easily that way, wouldn't you?»

Matsui chose that moment to come back.

«How's the guy?», Asou asked.

Morimura didn't parted his eyes from Yukimura, keeping glaring at him like he was a mosquito landed on his arm.

«He's dying», Matsui shrugged. «He asked me to call the police, the morgue, and Sleeping Kogoro. The nurse says he's okay, though. Just needs some rest».

«Is he dying or he is okay?»

Matsui shrugged. «Well, he had enough energy to keep complaining non-stop as soon as he's reached the infirmary, so I don't think his life is in a particular danger. I suggested him to switch to drama club, but he didn't appreciate».

«I guess so», Morimura cut it short. «So, what do you think we have to do with this one, here?», he pointed at Yukimura, who didn't even blink. «If you are the manager, you can express your opinion too».

Sanada did look at Morimura. The guy had his arms crossed, tapping his fingers on his upper sleeve. He was taking time, Sanada realized. He disapproved Yukimura and the way he played the match, and Sanada himself couldn't disagree with him. But still he recognized his potential. How couldn't him? The guy didn't seem an idiot, after all.

«I could, if I have a pale idea of what happened on that court», Matsui arched his eyebrows. «I mean, one minute I was writing a note, one moment later that guy collapsed on the ground out of nowhere. I thought wizards went to Hogwarts, not to Rikkai», she glanced at Yukimura. «And as far as I remember, magic was forbidden in Quidditch too».

What the hell was she talking about now? Yanagi grinned next to him.

«Nice metaphor», he said.

«Well, that was cool, Captain!», someone shouted from the crowd.

Morimura ignored them. The cheering grew louder.

«You'll stay in group A until the end of first term», Morimura eventually announced. «Group A means basic practice and ball chasing. After the end of the summer break, we may talk again about this».

After the end of the summer break. That would have meant no chance to play in prefectural, nor in Kantou Preliminaries. Not a condition Sanada himself would have accepted.

Yukimura nodded. «Then I see no reason for me to stay in this club».

Before Morimura could reply, Asou intercepted. «Joining the club is not compulsory, Yukimura-kun», he said, coldly.

Don't say something stupid, Sanada thought. Don't. Say. Something. Stupid.

«You may think there's no need for you to start again from the basics, but I would not be sure if I was in your shoes», Asou continued. «If this is your tennis, a restart would be more useful than you think».

«My tennis, as you called it, leaded me to the victory of two Nationals Championships in a row. I'm pretty sure I'll need no restart».

«After the summer break, you'll have a chance to prove that», Morimura cut it short. His gaze wandered around the courts, realizing everyone had stopped what they were doing to follow the debate.

Yukimura's very own soap opera became popular in Rikkai in just two days. No-one would have missed the updates.

«Everyone!», Morimura yelled. «Back to your practice. Now!», he clapped his hands. «Do you want to run laps until practice ends? No? Then don't let me find you wasting time again. Move!»

«I won't wait», Yukimura called the attention again. «I won't wait doing nothing until summer break», he repeated.

Yukimura wasn't contracting, he was declaring. There was no room for a debate, no room for further options. Only running laps and doing swing warming up during tournaments season? Just ridiculous.

Morimura didn't seem amused at all. He glanced around, making sure everyone was heading back to their duties. «You'll do what I will tell you to do», he said eventually. «And if you don't like that, well, like Asou said, joining the club is not compulsory».

«So maybe I should not». Yukimura dropped the bomb as if he didn't care.

Except that he did care.

How could him not? Sanada shook his head. He glanced at Yanagi, who was still following the dialogue without blinking an eye.

Morimura seemed to have reached the end of his patience. «You're excused, then. You can go. Be sure your locker will be emptied before you leave».

Asou turned to look at the Captain. «Morimura-kun...», he said, but the guy ignored him. «I think I've been clear enough, Yukimura-kun. If you intend to fix this attitude and do what you've been asked to do, as expected of everyone in this club, you're welcome to stay. If you intend to keep on saying you'll deserve some special treatment, I'm afraid to inform you that this club won't considered you part of it anymore. These are my last words on the matter».

Asou opened his mouth again, but didn't reply. Sanada looked at Yukimura. The guy remained silent from long seconds, and with him the rest of the court. Sanada didn't dare to breath.

«Well then». He couldn't see Yukimura's face, but his tone said he was smiling. Not happily, not at all. «Thank you for all you've done for me». He turned on his back, and went down from the bleachers.

 _What the..._ Sanada looked up at him, but Yukimura didn't even glance towards Sanada or Yanagi or anyone. Like he did the day he lost against Morimura, he walked towards the locker room, chin up, like the world was empty and meaningless around him. In his world of pride, only him exists.

And in that exact moment, his world was so filled with _stupidity_ Sanada was amazed there was still room for anything else. He looked at Yanagi, who wore an admirable poker face. «I shall go and slap him some sense in his head».

He had never slapped Yukimura. He had never _needed_ to slap Yukimura, more than dared. Niou mocked him once, saying that he wasn't brave enough to ever attempt to do that. But Yukimura had never disappointed him, had never behaved like a foolish little _girl._ There was a first time for everything.

«You better not», Yanagi answered. «Leave him alone for a while. Talking with Seiichi when he indulges in this kind of attitude will be more damaging than useless».

 _Leave him alone_ , the same thing he said after yesterday's match. Leave him alone to do what, to choke on his own pride? He would have never thought he would have seen this side of him before. He had known him for so long and he had never... Sanada shook his head, as he stood up to follow Yanagi on the court. Practice would go on. You are not finished yet, go back to your work, Morimura yelled from the bleachers.

He tapped the strings of his racket. Maybe the reason why Yukimura had never disappointed him was simply that he had never been in the position to become disappointing. Sanada had been so used to keep losing to Yukimura and keep watching people lose to him that had never questioned himself of what could have happened if that little variant in the equation would have changed.

Maybe Yukimura had just hit real life with his face, and the mask fell off, and the guy who give up his passion for the sake of his pride was everything that remained.

He hit back Yanagi's serve so hard he felt his forearm burning. He took a deep breathe to calm down. Thank God he had enough self control to prevent himself to go after Yukimura and slap him until his face became the same colour as his _damn_ hair.

* * *

...

* * *

Aaaand we're done here.

I've been unsure about how to write this chapter for long, and I hope I didn't go out of character in the end. I always try to stay faithful to canon while I write the characters, but without forgetting that they're still fifteen-year old boys, though in the series they're often portrayed as more mature. This is how Yukimura met his bratty phase. I'm sorry. Okay I'm not.

Thank you for reading the chapter, feel free to leave any comment/feedback/insult you want. Okay, I'd rather have feedback than insults, rly.

See you ASAP.

Fanny.

 _Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi_

 _[Honey, this mirror isn't big enough for the two of us - My Chemical Romance]_


	5. Chapter 5

**5\. What's a God to a non-believer who don't believe in anything**

«Do you need these?»

Marui looked at Niou; the guy waved a box of condoms in front of his nose.

«If this is your way to ask me for a date», Marui rolled his eyes, «I'd suggest to rethink it».

«You loved it», Niou put the box back, as Marui kept looking for Tetsu's strawberry flavored toothpaste. Okay, his and Tetsu's. «Need soap? Bath cream? Hair remover?»

«Do you even think this is funny», Marui sighed. «Listen, I just asked you to keep me from spending all my money in chocolate. You can also push the cart if you like to. Feel free to shut up».

«This is not how you flirt», Niou shook his head. «I can teach you».

«Please don't». Marui checked the list. Who the hell had put orange marmalade on that? Must've been Naoto. That thing was more bitter than Sanada's sense of humor. «Learning your flirting is the last thing I need. Can you bring me a carton of that pineapple juice over there? Yes, that one. Thanks».

He wanted to make some hamburger for dinner. Tetsu had got a good grade on his math test and he had promised him hamburgers with french fries. Naoto wouldn't be too pleased. Well, served him right to make him buy orange marmalade.

He still needed the ground beef, and oil. He pushed the cart through the butchery aisle.

«You should buy an umbrella, too», Niou added from behind.

«What?»

«It rains».

Marui stopped in front of the fridges, and listened. Heavy drops were tapping on the roof. He cursed through his teeth. Brilliant.

«Your lucky day. I've got one», Niou added.

«Did you check the weather before leaving?», Marui grinned, throwing a family pack of hamburger in the cart, giving up on the idea to make them himself. Next stop: potatoes.

Niou shrugged, and didn't answer. He pointed at the refrigerator aisle. «French fries are on sale».

Marui sighed. «My lucky day indeed».

He grabbed a bag of fries, shivering for the frost, and checked the list again. He had everything he needed, except for the things he had surely forgot to put on the list. Whatever. Convenience Stores were opened every day.

He signaled Niou he was ready, and they reached the cash machine. Marui scanned a pack of apple gums along with the rest of the grocery. Screw this, he needed them. He opened the wallet to pay, and look at the total.

«Oh. Awesome», he snorted.

Niou tilted his head and grinned. «How much do you need?»

Marui sighed. «500 yen».

Niou threw him a 1000 yen bill.

«I owe you a lunch».

Niou picked up the bags. «Shut your mouth and hurry up. I want to be home before it becomes a thunderstorm».

«Thought you forgot the keys».

«I can break the bathroom's window. Already did it once».

Marui shook his head. He didn't want to know the details. «You can drop by. I'll make some tea».

«I don't like tea».

«I have instant coffee».

«I'll take the tea». Niou handed the bags to Marui. «Take this. I'll look for the umbrella».

The rain was more like a mist than proper drops; Marui wished his coat had a hood. His hair were becoming sticky. He sighed; he had just had a shower, and he already felt like he needed another one. He wiped away the humidity from his face with a sleeve.

«Do you have math tomorrow?», Marui asked.

«Like I know».

«Whatever. Can i borrow your calculator? Naoto stole mine and doesn't want to give it back. Please? Please!»

«Thought you were a genius».

«I am. But I'm also lazy».

And tired. He just really wanted the summer to come. Waking up for morning practice in the dark was as depressing as coming home from practice in the dark. He couldn't wait for tournament season to begin, even if he wouldn't get to play.

* * *

«Will you play next week?», Marui asked Niou. He put the teapot on the stove and lit the fire. «Vanilla or blueberry?»

«Earl Grey».

«Boooring».

«Classy».

Marui shook his head as he searched the cupboard to look for cookies.

«You and Jackal had signed up for doubles?», Niou asked.

«Ah-ah», Marui nodded, and hit the cupboard's edge with the head. «Ouch». Such a genius indeed. And there were no cookies. Guess who had eaten all of them? He would have dealt with Naoto later. «What about you?»

«Singles».

Marui nodded again. He sat at the table while he waited for the teapot to whistle. «Can't say I'm surprised».

Instead, he had been surprised when Niou has accepted so calmly to be classified as a doubles player, since he himself grabbed Yagyuu in the team. The only real doubles team they had before was him and Jackal. All the others could play doubles, of course, but they all were singles players who sort of "sacrifice themselves" in playing doubles, since Tournament schedules required two doubles matches. It was true, Niou and Yagyuu became a quite powerful combination. The fact that Yagyuu joined only at end of their second year, after the Nationals and stuff, had put him in a disadvantaged position than the other regulars, even if his fast improving assured him quickly a position in regular string. He was a talented player, but he lacked experience in tournaments.

Marui had to admit that Niou and Yagyuu formed an excellent doubles team. At least, Niou had been able to take the best out of that. Still, differently from him who always felt like a doubles specialist, Niou was more like a singles player who was very good at doubles too. Who accepted that position because it was what the team required at the moment, but who has lots of more potential when put in singles. He hadn't been surprised of the choice to put him in singles in National Finals, either. That was his natural position. The fact that he had been put in Singles 2 before both Yanagi, who played doubles with Kirihara, and Sanada, who took Singles 3 spot, may had been a mere strategic pattern. But still, the idea of Niou surpassing Sanada, or Yanagi, to become number two in the club wouldn't have been weird to his ears. Marui knew it was only a matter of time.

Seeing him playing against Fuji in the Nationals, on the other hand, had been like fireworks. He expected something amazing, but the guy exceeded every one of his previsions. He had never seen Niou playing like that before. Had this incredible growth been under his eyes all the time, or had he been hiding it from his team?

 _Unpredictable_. That was all Niou was. But how much he was... well, that was unpredictable too.

«And who are you challenging?», Marui asked eventually. The teapot started to whistle. Marui lit the fire off, took two cups from the drawer. «Look, I give you Tetsu's Pokémon cup. There's a Dragonair on it, don't you think it suits you?»

«Am I blue and do I look like a worm?»

«It's a dragon», Marui put an Earl Grey bag in Niou's cup and a vanilla one in his own. «Will you put your own sugar or do you trust me?»

«No sugar, thanks».

«Oh, right. I forgot you like tasteless things».

Niou grinned. «Actually, sugar does ruin the real taste of things».

«I'd choose the word improve». Right, Niou had even the coffee without sugar. Was he even human.

The house were silent as they wait for the tea to cool down. Too silent. And Marui wasn't naive enough to think that meant his brothers were doing their homework. Naoto, at least. Tetsu was still in that phase of life in which he actually felt the duty to do his own homework. Long time ago, for Marui. Naoto, most probably, had stolen his old DS to ruin his save spot in Pokémon Soul Silver.

He blew on his cup. He would have dealt with that later. He needed to do his own homework too. He groaned behind his tea. Math homework; maybe he could just message someone in class to ask to copy theirs. And then there would be that history essay due in three days. And the ranking matches. And the cold. Life was tiring indeed. «How much before the Golden Week?», he asked Niou.

The trickster didn't reply, and took a sip of tea. The cup was still steaming. The guy was _definitely_ not human.

«You can stay for dinner, if you want to», Marui added. Outside it was still raining, he could hear the drops against the kitchen's window.

Niou blended his tea. «Will your parents be okay?»

Marui scratched away some dirt from the plastic tablecloth. «There'll be only me and my brothers. Don't worry about that».

Niou nodded. «I won't help you with the cooking».

«You can help me with math».

Niou laughed. Marui missed being in the same class as him; he wasn't really reliable in anything, but Marui could always count on him to copy his math homework. Another reason why he wasn't human: Niou genuinely liked math.

«I have three problems to solve. None of them involves cakes», Marui complained. He liked math better when problems involved cakes. "You have ten slices of cake, you ate two. How many are left for your friends?" Answer: none. «Now there are only weird numbers and way too many letters».

«This is because you're not a grade schooler anymore». Niou put his empty cup on the table. Marui had barely touched his tea; it was still too hot.

«So sad. I tried to switch homework with Tetsu. He didn't want to».

«I doubt of your capacity to do his, too».

«It's easy. I just pretend they all involve donuts. It became complicated only when it comes to donut's limit, integrals or crap».

«I'll help you if you shut up».

«Jackal always says that too». Marui started to drink his tea; he added another spoon of sugar.

«You'll die», Niou snorted.

Marui shrugged, and took a sip. Now it was perfect.

Naoto peered out in the room to ask if dinner was ready - "It's already seven", he shouted, at the same time of Marui's "It's not even seven!" - and Marui asked him if Tetsu was still alive.

«Yes, he... Oh. Hi, Niou-san. Yes. He's probably reading, or something. Can I watch some tv?»

«As long as it's not wrestling», Marui replied.

«Oh, come on», Naoto rolled his eyes. «Mom's not there, isn't she? Don't be such a pain in the ass». Niou grinned, and mouthed "pain in the ass" in Marui's direction.

«It's not that's forbidden», Marui explained, as he kicked Niou's leg under the table. «It's just awful. And absolute garbage».

«Yeah, because hitting a a ball with a stick, yeah, _that's_ awesome».

«Yes, and it's called baseball. You used to like it too», Marui sighed. «Watch what you want. Just keep the volume low».

Naoto left the room with a grin of victory. Whatever. He would have grown up eventually, and matured some taste.

«Hitting the ball with a stick», Niou repeated. «That's accurate».

Marui snorted. «Don't mind him. He loves wrestling and basketball. The only thing we have in common is our love for the Cake Boss. Buddy is the best».

«He likes what he likes», Niou replied, «and that tea is likely cold».

Marui took a sip of it. Yeah. It was cold. He always missed the gap between hot-enough-to-burn-your-tongue and too-cold-to-be-drinkable. He drank the rest in one breath, then put his and Niou's cups in the sink.

«Do you want to join Naoto to watch Magnificent Glitter Bat kick Fury Majestic Cupcake's ass?»

«Not my kind of show».

«Knew that. So you can do my math homework while I go Gordon Ramsay».

«Nice try».

«Oh, come on». Marui took a chair and hopped on it to reach the highest shelf. «Don't you dare to laugh! Hey, don't you have to call home?»

«Don't worry about that», Niou answered, and Marui didn't ask any further. He cut a slice of butter from the fridge and put it in the frying pan. It was another reason he liked to hang out with Niou. He didn't answer questions, but didn't ask them either. It was somehow a relaxing feeling. He put the frying pan on the stove. «Wanna spices on your burger?»

«Just salt will be okay».

Marui switched the deep fryer on. The fries were already out of the refrigerator, but where the hell were the spices. Niou started to pull out the tableware from the dishwasher.

«You don't have to».

«I know». Niou put the glasses on the table. It should've been Tetsu's job, but whatever. Marui abandoned the meat and checked the deep fryer's temperature.

«Ohi», he recalled, «you haven't told me who you're going to challenge!»

He was curious about that. According to Yanagi, there was a guy between the regulars who had a play style similar to Niou's; it would've been an interesting match, if it would ever happened.

«Morimura», Niou replied.

Marui froze with an hand on the fryer's knob. He looked at Niou. «What, do you want to avenge Yukimura or something?»

Niou snorted. «Don't make me laugh».

«And so why?», Marui didn't understand. That Morimura guy was crazy; he neutralized every Yukimura's attempt to break his defense. It would've needed some sort of demon's mental strength to resist Yukimura's yips. He knew Niou had a soft spot for weird challenges, but he didn't think he would've voluntary signed up for a train wreck.

He hadn't seen Niou play in a proper match since the Nationals. Would've been possible that he had already surpassed Yukimura? A few months ago, he would've never considered the possibility, it would've been just... ridiculous? But a few months ago, Yukimura was still the Child of God.

«Why not», Niou replied.

Marui shut the fryer off. The oil was already too hot. He turned towards Niou, who was filling a pitcher with water. «Okay. Let's put aside the vengeance crap. Has this something to do with Yukimura?»

Niou didn't bat an eyelid. «I can't see how».

Yeah. Sure. «He has served him a breadstick in his first High School match [*]. The day after that, he kicked him out of the tennis club. What do you think?»

Niou put the pitcher on the table. «This has nothing to do with me».

Well, that was right too. «He's still our Captain. Was», he corrected himself.

«Was, Is», Niou shrugged. «It doesn't matter».

«Okay», Marui sat down. It was still early, the dinner could wait a little bit more. Sounds from a trashy commentary was coming from the living room. Naoto's conception of "low volume" was another thing that needed a discussion. «So, why?», he asked Niou. «Don't tell me "why not". That ceased to be funny way before dinosaurs died».

Niou tapped his fingers on the glass of the pitcher; they looked bigger and deformed through the water. «He's the Captain. He's strong». He looked straight at Marui. «That's a fact».

«So you think if you can beat Morimura, that you are stronger than Yukimura will be also a fact».

A pale smile appeared on Niou's lips. «I'm not interested?»

«You aren't?»

«You're building up a rivalry that exists only in your head», Niou replied.

Marui didn't reply. He started tapping his fingers on the table too; the sound of Niou's on the glass was contagious.

«So you just want to be the strongest», he finally said, but he wasn't believing his own words. That was Yukimura's personal crusade, or Sanada's. Akaya's biggest life goal - aside having the highest points in Super Smash Bros tournaments. But Niou's? It wouldn't fit him at all.

«No way», Niou said, predictably.

«So, why?» Morimura wasn't even his kind of player. Not freak enough to enter Niou's radar.

«Because he's strong».

Marui frowned. «So, you actually want to be the strongest», he repeated.

Okay, logic wasn't his best subject; he glanced at Niou, confused. The trickster smiled, didn't look at him. Marui bit the inside of his cheek. It wasn't Niou's characteristic, he could never imagine him in the position of Atobe, or Yukimura. He wasn't the kind of guy who sat on a throne, a crown on his head, ready to defend his position no matter at which cost. He almost laughed out loud. No. It was just insane.

He looked at Niou. «You want to defeat the strongest».

Niou pulled away a hair from his jacket's sleeve. «Not really».

No. He just loved challenges, Marui guessed. The more difficult was the challenge, the more intrigued was him. Niou wasn't the kind of guy who searched victory over anything else; moreover, he looked for being... thrilled? Marui didn't know for sure. Hell, nothing about Niou would ever be somewhere near "sure".

He smiled. «Tell me when your match is scheduled». He stood up again; it was time to make dinner for real.

Niou grinned. «Wanna come and cheer for me?»

«Sure. I'll bring a banner too», Marui replied. «Made by Jackal, of course. Oh, I'll put garlic on my burger. If you'll ever try to kiss me after doing my math homework. A guy must protect himself».

«Just open your mouth and speak, Marui. That's enough of defense», Niou replied.

Marui threw him the pot holder; it missed him completely and ended up inside the pitcher. «Great».

«Your aim is amazing».

Marui picked the soaked holder from the pitcher, then emptied it in the sink. «I will spit on your burger». He rinsed the pitcher and filled it with water again. «No. Wait. You have to do my homework. I'll spit on your burger next time».

«I've already said I won't do that».

«You promised me!», Marui clutched his heart. «I trusted you! I let you into my house, I gave you my food, my tea, my _brother's Pokémon mug!_ How could you...»

«Give me that homework and just shut up», Niou sighed.

«...be so lovely, _Niou-sama_ ».

«Just shut up».

Marui abandoned the stove to look for his math notebook. He didn't even realize that the burgers were half burnt.

* * *

«Is that a Mars, Yagyuu?»

«Indeed, it's a chestnut energy bar», the boy replied. «I don't think it will meet your taste, Marui-kun. It's sugar-free».

Marui cringed. «Ugh. Tasteless. How can you even eat...»

«It's self defense, Bunta», Jackal stepped in. «If we start to bring things you don't like, we may even succeed to actually eat them».

«Stop talking like I'm usually going around stealing other people's food. I'm not a thief. I always ask».

«Whatever». Jackal shook his head. He had already finished his banana before Marui came out from his classroom for the morning break. He started to get too clever; that only meant Marui needed to be faster.

«By the way, where's Niou?» He needed to talk to the guy. Like, now.

«In his classroom. I guess». Okay, that thing Yagyuu was eating looked exactly like cardboard.

«And where is it?», Marui asked.

«On the northern wing, right behind the corner. It's in front of Yukimura-kun's classroom».

«Oh. I'm not going, then. I don't want to meet him». Marui didn't exactly mean to say that out loud, but well, sometimes his brain-mouth filter didn't work very well.

Jackal rolled his eyes. «Oh, for God's sake!»

Yagyuu shook his head. «Sanada-kun hadn't spoke to Yukimura-kun since the accident as well, according to what Yanagi-kun said».

«What, they broke up?», Marui blurted. That was news. He already imagined the former Big Three having secret meetings to plan how to kill Morimura, bury his body under the bleachers and restore Yukimura as Captain in his place. Maybe they were publicly avoiding each other just to be free from any suspect of conspiracy when their plan would have succeeded. So clever. As expected from Yanagi.

He jumped to sit on the windowsill, just let free by a group of girls who was heading towards the bathroom. A light rain was falling outside the pane. It hadn't stopped since the evening before - Niou managed to get home a few minutes before if became a thunderstorm - and morning practice had already been cancelled. Marui had passed an hour straight sleeping in the library and almost skipped the first period. Being that math, it wouldn't have been a loss worth crying for. Talking about math...

«I only know what Yanagi-kun told me», Yagyuu replied. «I didn't ask him the reasons. It's not my business, after all».

Marui glanced at him. «Well, it is. If Sanada and Yukimura break up, Rikkai ship will sink and we all will die. I think it qualifies that as our business too».

«I don't even know how to reply to you anymore», Jackal sighed.

«Marui-kun is probably spending too much time with Niou-kun». Yagyuu walked to throw the empty package of his so-called snack in the bin. «Sanada-kun must have his reasons, and no-one of us is in the position to judge him».

«I don't want to judge him», Marui complained, «I just want to know what's going on». Asking Yukimura was out of the question. Asking Sanada was unreasonable. Asking Yanagi could've worked, but there was no way to get an answer from the data master if he didn't intend to give one in the first place.

«Do you think it's about the tennis club?», Marui asked, waving his legs down the windowsill. He hit the wall with his heel. «Ouch».

«Don't ruin the school walls», Yagyuu warned him. He could be even more annoying than Sanada as a school cop.

«Serves you right, for asking stupid questions», Jackal leaned against the column. «What else it could be? If something, I'm not surprised at all. I was expecting something like that from Sanada».

«Do you?», Marui kicked out his slipper and rubbed his foot. «Well, I guess...»

None of them really heard what Morimura and Yukimura said to each other - okay, they tried, but they were too far away, up on the bleachers, and they spoke too soft to be heard. They only knew what Yanagi told them after practice, in the locker room. Apparently the two of them argued about Yukimura's use of the Yips, and the former Rikkai Captain then decided to leave the club. He gave them no more details - he probably decided to remain vague, being them in a crowded locker room, full of hears ready to eavesdrop - and neither he did in the following days. Marui knew he could just go directly to Yukimura and ask him, but somehow the mere idea made him uncomfortable.

It wasn't like he was scared or something; the truth was simply that he didn't know what to say to him. He felt something similar the first time the team went to visit him at the hospital, when no-one had any idea about what was happening to him, not even the doctors. He just fell and couldn't feel his legs nor his arms nor anything anymore, and he sat in a hospital bed not knowing if that would have ever passed, and _will it happen again even if it does_ , and not even why that was happening to him, and that time Marui just looked at him while hearing Yanagi's perfect comfort words - he didn't know if they reassured Yukimura at all, but for sure they did reassure him - and then he smiled at his Captain, and Yukimura smiled him back, and that had been enough.

He and Yukimura had never been exactly friends, but what happened to him had pulled their team closer than Marui would have imagined it could ever be. It didn't matter wether they liked Yukimura or not before. He was their Captain, he was fighting his own battle to come onto the court again, and they were his team. It had been the first time in which Marui really felt as part of a team, a time when winning wasn't only a natural instinct but something which carried a completely different meaning. He didn't even like Yukimura so much, if at all, but he wanted to win for him. He wanted to win _with_ him, once again.

Marui shook his head. It was different, back then. They had a common goal, and they knew exactly what Yukimura needed from them. Their support, but more than that, their hard work. But now Marui had no idea of what Yukimura needed from them, if he even needed anything they could give. And, frankly speaking, he wasn't sure he cared. They were a team when they reached National finals, but after that, the puzzle broke apart. The pieces split up, there was nothing to keep them together anymore.

«If I have to guess», Jackal reprised, «I'd say Sanada is disappointed».

Marui blinked. «When the hell is he not?» Sanada satisfied about something, _that_ would have been news.

«He had never been before», Jackal replied. «Not when it was about Yukimura».

Marui opened his mouth to answer him back, then closed it. Well. He had got a point there.

Yukimura and Sanada already argued before, but well, not like that. The last time they didn't spoke to each other for days was after their loss against Seigaku in Kantou tournament. But it was Sanada's failure that time, - in Yukimura's perspective, at least - Sanada's fault to lead them to Rikkai's first defeat in Kantou in sixteen years, and they had a good reason to get over it and become a team again. After the Nationals, no-one blamed Yukimura for his loss - as no-one blamed Marui, too. But he was sure the Captain blamed himself at least as much as he did, if no more.

Marui sighed. It didn't matter anymore. «Well, that makes no sense anyway. If Yukimura had decided to leave the tennis club, Sanada should respect his will, huh?»

Yagyuu looked at him. «I'm not sure he exactly decided to leave the club».

Marui's foot started to get cold. «Jackal, can you give me my slipper, please, please?», he turned towards Yagyuu: «Wait, what do you mean?»

«That's not what Matsui-san told me».

Marui tilted his head. «Who the hell is Matsui-san?»

Jackal sighed, and threw the slipper in Marui's lap. «That's our manager».

Oh, right. Now he remembered. «Talking about that, I always forget to ask», he looked at Yagyuu, «is she good at baking?»

«Put that damn slipper on», Jackal snorted. «What did she tell you?», he asked Yagyuu.

The so-called Gentleman fixed his tie, and didn't reply. He looked like he was choosing the words. What did the manager tell him? That Yukimura had literally tried to kill Morimura but failed in the attempt? Nah. It wasn't possible. Yukimura would have never failed if he wanted him dead.

«According to her, Yukimura-kun didn't leave the club. It had been Morimura-san that threw him out».

Marui looked at Jackal. He didn't seem surprised either. It was surely a more realistic explanation than having Yukimura leave the club with no apparent reason. Yeah, it was what Yanagi said, but Marui wasn't really persuaded by that. Yukimura leaving the club by his will? He couldn't imagine a good reason for him to do so. He didn't think Yanagi had lied to them either. Well. Guess he should truly go and ask Yukimura in the end.

«Did she tell you why?», Jackal demanded.

Yagyuu shrugged. «More or less. She wasn't there for the entire discussion. In the end Yukimura-kun refused to accept the conditions the Captain demanded to remain in the club, so he left».

«What conditions?» Marui bended down to put his slipper on, it fell from his hands. «Crap. Jackal? Thanks».

«He was banned from the activities until the end of the summer», Yagyuu explained.

«Seriously?! For what? Oh, Jackal. Please!» Marui was feeling too comfortable, sat on there, to jump down the windowsill and get the slipper back by himself. «For being stronger than anyone else in the club? Nice move. Really clever».

«Not anyone else. Morimura defeated him», Jackal reminded them.

«Yeah», Marui nodded, and kept pointing at the slipper while giving Jackal the best of his puppy eyes. The move was no more effective. «Aside from him».

«Morimura-san is only one person», Yagyuu directed a glance at Marui that made him give up the idea of trying puppy eyes with him. «We have no clue about the rest of the team. I know Yanagi-kun asked for the videos of the last High School competition...»

«Did he?!»

«...but only Morimura-san and Asou-san were regulars last year, and no-one else in the club had even played in Winter Invitational. So the information he had been able to gather is very limited. We'll get to know more by the upcoming ranking matches».

«Oh, will you play too, Yagyuu?», Marui jumped down the windowsill to get his slipper. Damn Jackal. He definitely deserved friends who didn't forsake him on the time of need.

«You're done with today's bonus for stupid questions, you know», Jackal sighed.

Marui grumbled. Was it a stupid question? He looked at Yagyuu; he knew that the guy didn't even plan to pursue his studies at Rikkai in the first place. Marui felt like they've been teammates since forever, but in fact the Gentleman joined the club only at the end of their second year. He remembered it clearly; it was only a month before Yukimura collapsed at the bus station. He put on his slipper and sat on the floor, ignoring Yagyuu's scolding gaze. He had been the last to join, and the first to quit, right after their loss in National finals. He saw no reason to stay, he told Yukimura, and he needed time to revise for his exams. Marui knew he applied for some élite school in Tokyo but he hadn't been admitted in.

Marui didn't really expect him to come to Rikkai in the end, let alone joining the tennis club again. He probably ended up to love the sport more than Marui had initially thought, or maybe he had other reasons, whatever they could even be.

«Will you play singles too?», he asked. «Niou said he will».

«Did he?», Jackal tilted his head, then nodded. «Yeah. Not really a surprise».

«Yeah, who would have ever guessed», Marui crossed his legs and leaned his back against the wall. He looked up at Yagyuu. «So, singles?»

The guy adjusted his glasses. «I can't see a reason to sign up for doubles».

«What. There are lots of reason. First, doubles is fun». Marui jumped back on his feet. «Second, if you fuck it up, you can always blame your doubles partner. Third, there's nothing in the world cooler than a well-combined offense. Come on».

«You should respect more your third point than the second one, if you allow me to speak on the matter», Jackal objected. «Oh, why do I still waste my time on this».

«Because I'm an excellent doubles partner». Marui planned to sign up and challenge the Doubles 1 pair of the team, but no-one had wasted time to tell him who they were. There were their names on the sign-up table, but since he had never seen them attend practice, he had no idea of how they played, or how strong they were. He was waiting for info from Yanagi, but as Yagyuu said, the Master was finding some difficulties to figure out who the hell were some team's members. Sanada was probably even more pissed of by this than by Yukimura's being out of the club. Maybe.

Well, the fact that Yagyuu and Niou didn't plan to step forward as a pair couldn't bother Marui any less. He had been glad to have them in the team as long as they allowed them to win more matches, but he hadn't been exactly ecstatic to see his Doubles 1 spot stolen by them. It would've been one less rival in the end.

«You're not irreplaceable, though», Jackal replied.

Marui clutched his shirt on the chest. «Oh my god. You have no idea of how hurt I am now. You should definitely buy me some chocolate to cheer me up».

«The break is almost over anyway. You and your broken heart should go back in class».

Marui sighed. When did Jackal become so strict? He missed Akaya. When Akaya was around, Jackal was a gentler mommy. He kept forgetting to text the younger guy, too. He had initially planned to call him the day before, but then Niou stayed for dinner at his place, and he completely forgot about...

«Oh, right!», he yelled. «Where's Niou?»

«Don't scream in the hallway», Yagyuu reproved him. «And, he's in his class, I guess. Exactly where he was ten minutes ago, when you asked the very same question».

«That _ass_ ».

«Language, Marui-kun».

«It's not a bad word. It's an accurate shortening for "asshole who promised to do my math homework and just pretended to do it while writing down the Sorting Hat song on my notebook instead". For short, it's just _ass_ ». The fucker probably thought it would have been funny. Yeah. Really funny. The detention he would get for not deliver his homework also would be funny. Fuck Niou.

«Why not try the experience of doing your own homework, once in a lifetime?», Jackal rolled his eyes.

«I trusted him. And he betrayed me. All my friends betray me. I can only trust myself at this point. No, wait. I can't even trust myself. I'm screwed». He shook his head. «I can only trust chocolate. That's what's my life is up to».

«If you really trusted Niou-kun, I don't think you're in the position to blame anyone else than yourself». The bell rang, as to underline Yagyuu's words. «Well, see you later, I guess. I'll let you know if practice will be held this afternoon, if Matsui-san already know something».

«Yeah, thanks. See you later», Jackal waved at Yagyuu, and started to move toward his own class. «Ohi, Bunta. Don't text me during class. I've got a test, I won't answer you no matter how bored you are».

«I don't care. I've already accepted the fact that I will die alone». He could have texted Niou instead. Something like the word "traitor" in all the languages available on Google translator. Marui sighed and sneaked in class like three seconds before the professor entered, falling on his chair and trying to resist the impulse to put his head on his arms and sleep. He checked what he had. Japanese history. How thrilling. He brought his books out and looked out of the window. The rain had become heavier; it seemed very unlikely any practice would have been held for that day. He could use the free time to catch up with his homework. He sighed; what a stimulating prospect. He opened his book, and started to mentally plan an hundred and one ways to pay Niou back. A guy needed to figure out some tricks to stay awake.

* * *

...

* * *

Writing Niou Masaharu more like "write three words and then erase five". What even is this guy. I'm not completely satisfied of how it turned out, but I'll never be so when it's concerning Niou Masaharu. I think this chapter it's the best I could do now, so I hope you've enjoyed it.

I want to thank my anonymous reviewer for their lovely comment, I'm so glad you've enjoyed the way I've written these dorks. Bratty!Yukimura will come back as soon as possible!

[*] A clarification, just in case: when Marui said that Morimura "served Yukimura a breadstick" it doesn't mean he gave him breadsticks from his purse, but it's a colloquial tennis term for a 6-1 score. A 6-0 is called a "bagel".

Thanks a lot for reading, see you soon!

 _Fanny._

 _Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi._

 _What's a God to a non-believer who don't believe in anything [Kanye West and Jay Z feat. Frank Ocean- No Church in the Wild]_


	6. Chapter 6

**6 - Created a kingdom, reached for the wisdom, failed in becoming a God**

There was something motivational in routine. It maybe looked like a paradox. Routine was usually related to boredom, repeating things over and over, how could you ever feel motivated by something which just replied itself one day after the other? No-one had ever told Yukimura anything of how lost you became when one single piece in the routine suddenly changed, while everything else remained the same. It was like in those dreams, when suddenly the ground wasn't under your feet anymore, and you just fell, fell, fell. And you needed to find a way to stand back again.

«I knew I would've found you here».

Yukimura turned back, then smiled. _Of course._ He shook his head; he sneaked there like a thief - or at least he felt like one. Heading out of school after practice was still an alien feeling to him, and it kept leaving him with a weird sense of emptiness, like he had skipped lunch or forgot his bag at home without realizing it. He had said goodbye to his classmates after fulfilling his cleaning duties, and managed to get out of the gates without meeting any known face. He wasn't exactly in a secret mission, but, well, he wanted to do that alone. For his own surprise, he was glad Yanagi was there.

The Master approached, walking towards him at his slow pace, a hand raised to signal him to wait, the other holding the umbrella. Yukimura smiled at him, tilted his head. «You don't need to stalk me, Renji. You can just ask me out».

Yanagi reached him and smiled him back. «There's no need to stalk you. I knew you would've come here. I only needed to figure out when».

Yukimura's smile flickered, he scowled at his friend. He didn't like to be read into, not even by Yanagi. It was true, though. He had been thinking about coming there for three days, and he had only needed to find the right moment. Yukimura had never been a "tomorrow" person; procrastinating wasn't part of his nature. Still, he knew some things required the right moment to be done, and forcing them before the time would've been just a mistake. That afternoon, however, the sense of guilt he would've felt by going straight home would've been worse than the sense of unease he felt being there. There was some irony in that, in his feeling of return as a beggar.

«Why are you here, though? Skipping practice already?»

«It rains», Yanagi replied. «Regular practice had been cancelled today. There was a sign in the clubroom this morning».

Yukimura nodded. «But practicing under the rain is really important to improve power and accuracy», he glanced at Yanagi from beyond the umbrella.

His friend gave a hint of smile. «We were twelve. And if I recall correctly, you and Genichirou both caught an impressive cold after that».

«That's right. But it still had been your idea». Yukimura started to walk towards the school gates, Yanagi following. The plaque which signaled the Middle School Department of Rikkai University was the same as always, with that huge scratch on the bottom left that was there since the day Yukimura crossed that gates for the first time.

«Nostalgic?» Yanagi asked.

Yukimura looked away from the entrance and kept walking. The rain was falling lighter, the first rays of sunshine could be glimpsed through the clouds. The grey building was the same as always, and how it could be different? «It's not been even a month». He shook his head. Well, he sure had thought that dropping there from High School for a visit would've been on different circumstances, but it wasn't enough reason to regret anything. He had collected a lot of good memories between those walls, that was undeniable. Still, he could not say that the last year he had been there had been exactly full of them.

«I just...», he began, then sighed. He couldn't even think of a clear reason for being there, let alone explain it out loud. Maybe he should've let Yanagi explain that to him. If he had been able to foresee the fact that Yukimura would've come there, he would probably know the reasons better than him too. «I feel like coming», he finished, weakly.

«I'm sure Akaya will be happy to see you again», Yanagi said. They met and cross a group of students that Yukimura didn't recognize, but that clearly recognized them, as they greeted the two by their names as they passed. Yukimura smiled and nodded at them, not being in the mood to stop and start any kind of conversation. He didn't plan to stay there more than the necessary time.

«I've texted him last weekend. I did mean to come and visit, but I hadn't had the time before». Yanagi added, as they turned right to follow the path towards the Sports Area. Only few people were around, signal that the practice could've probably been suspended or moved to indoor gyms. During their second year, they gained the right to use the third gym every time it rained, in damage of the boys' basketball club, after the latter had been knocked out in the first round of Kantou Tournament. It had been Yukimura who interceded with the principal to obtain that; he wasn't already Captain at the time - there was no way for a second year to became Captain before his upperclassman; at least, not officially - but he was respected as one. He wondered if Kirihara had kept the right to use the gym, or if he had let someone else steal it from him. They would've soon discovered that, he guessed.

The tennis courts were empty, as expected. Water puddles had been formed at the baselines, where the concrete was consumed by years and years of serves and receives, and water filled the empty holes where the net poles should've been put. The lines, greyed for the rain, were almost impossible to discern.

There was only a person - a girl, according to the uniform - who stood at the top of the flight of steps, looking towards the courts. Yukimura was already walking away, heading towards the gym to see if the tennis club was gathered for an indoor practice or has already left for home - he already counted the possibility coming here, and he had the impression that part of him hoped that he would've find no-one there - when Yanagi blocked him. «Wait», he put his free hand on Yukimura's shoulder. «I know her».

Yukimura raised his eyebrows. «You can go and say hello, if you want. I'm looking for Akaya».

«Just a minute», Yanagi replied, and moved towards her. Yukimura wasn't enthusiast to stay and wait in the rain - not when he wanted to finish that thing as soon as possible - but he just sighed, and didn't move.

«Matsui?», Yanagi called.

The girl turned towards him, and when the umbrella was no longer covering her face, Yukimura recognized her as well. She was the tennis club manager, he had seen her on the bleachers the day of the challenge. He sure had no time for talk with her right now. What she was even doing there in the first place?

«Oh, I know you!», she pointed at Yanagi, as she was approaching. «Hello, Yanagi-kun. It's Yanagi, right? Oh, I'm a mess with names».

«I'm well aware of that», Yanagi smiled. «You get my name wrong at least ten times before guessing it right. But don't worry, I'm not offended».

«That's a good thing, 'cause even if you got offended, I wouldn't get any better at guessing names all the same». She shivered, and held the jacket closer to her chest. «Do you have any idea of where the tennis office is? I'm here since forever and no-one was in sight, except for three birds who came to bath in the pool once known as tennis court».

Well, who she could wish to see in a rainy day? Yukimura looked at her. He had nothing against her in particular, but since she was Morimura's manager, he wasn't particularly ecstatic to have her around. She had nothing to do with Junior High club anyway. Yukimura didn't know if she had attended school there, but he didn't recall to have seen her even once in three years, so he guessed the answer was no. He was about to walk away and go looking for Kirihara by his own, when she glanced up and saw him.

«Oh. I didn't surely forget your name. Hello, Yukimura-kun».

He didn't like her gaze at all, he couldn't tell if she was amused or what. He just smiled towards her, and nodded.

«I was waiting for you, you know», she added. «Yagyuu-kun had told me to expect nothing, but I didn't really listen to him. He was right, I guess».

«What are you talking about?», Yanagi asked, sparing Yukimura from the duty to reply her trying not to be harsh.

«I thought you would've come back. To the club, I mean. I think Morimura-san expected that, too. Oh, not that he told me so or anything. It's just my impression, you know», she shrugged, and drops fell from the umbrella right on her face. She wiped them away with her sleeve. «But you didn't».

Yukimura cringed. What would've been the point of coming back, if he wouldn't have been allowed to play tennis? He didn't really expect her to understand, though. He didn't expect anyone to understand. Sanada didn't; and he thought that even Yanagi, although not judging him, couldn't really feel the reasons that had moved him to that decision.

«I didn't see a reason to do so», he told her, who was still staring at him, waiting for an answer.

«Well, to ask to be admitted back, of course», she replied, like it was the most stupid thing on earth. And indeed it was, but, he suspected, not in the sense she meant.

«It's not that easy», Yanagi stepped in. «The club is probably this way, if you want to follow».

«I can't see it as really complicated», she objected, as they began to walk through the so familiar path. «You come, ask to talk with the Captain, apologize for your behavior and then ask to be admitted back. I've already seen it happening. Unless you set the court on fire, there's no reason for you to be shut out of the club until forever».

«The Captain has publicly expelled Seiichi from the club», Yanagi glanced at Yukimura, like he was apologizing for bringing the speech in that direction. Yukimura shook his head; he didn't really care at that point. «He can't simply admit him back. His position force him to be strict, and being strict means do not reverse a decision, once taken».

«As far as I know, exactly because he's the Captain, he's free to do what he wants. Yeah, yeah, I know, with limits, I don't mean that he can turn the office in a nighttime strip club. Even if, it could help to raise some funds, we would really need a gym only for us... But that's not the point», she shook her head. «Yeah, he had already made a decision, but leaving a strong team member out just for the sake of being strict? That wouldn't be doing the best for the club, which is the first duty of a Captain, correct me if I'm wrong. Obviously, this is useless if you don't want to come back», she tilted her head, looking at Yukimura. «He can't be the one chasing after you, you know».

Yukimura stood silent, holding back a smile. He could start to tell her a couple of things about how little respect a Captain could ask if he's not even able to hold fast to his decisions, but what was the point, if she wasn't even able to understand something that simple?

«Both Seiichi and Morimura surely know what is the best decision to make», Yanagi tried to close the issue. «But, talking about you, Matsui, why are you here? You didn't attend this school». This wasn't a question.

«No, no. I moved here from Aomori two months ago. But well, that's the reason why I'm here right now. It's you, by the way», she smiled.

«Me?», Yanagi looked surprised. She laughed.

«You, your team. I don't know anything about you, except the fact that you were strong enough to made it to the Nationals for three years in a row. We - I mean, our team, back in Junior High - did never get there, we had been close during my third year, but we lost in the finals of our region, and since we had only one spot available», she stretched out her arms, and almost skewered Yanagi's eye with the umbrella. «Oh, god. I'm sorry! Are you alive? Can you still see? Good. I was saying, we did never made it to the Nationals, so we never met as teams, and I basically know nothing about you guys. But since rumor has it you're all pretty strong, some research's worth my time», she winked, like she thought she was funny.

«And what kind of research did you have in mind?», Yanagi asked, politely.

«The same as you, I guess», she jumped to avoid a puddle. «You came to ask me for the last year videos yesterday. I guess you have some of them here as well».

«You could've asked me», Yanagi suggested. «I don't mind answering your questions, if there's something you need to know».

She smiled. «I'll keep that in mind, but I'd rather watch it with my eyes first. No offense meant, Yanagi-kun, but I don't know you at all. You could tell me the biggest fat lies and I would have no way to know they're not the truth».

«No offense taken», Yanagi nodded. «Indeed, we had a big collection of videos, even if I think you don't need to watch every single one of them. But I heartily recommend you to watch the National Finals of the last three years».

«Well, if you say so, but you didn't even play in your first year, so what's the point...», she intercepted Yanagi's meaningful gaze. «Wait, you did? Oh my god. And you did play in the finals? Both of you? I can't believe it!»

«Both of us, and Genichirou as well. Sanada», he added, when she looked at him, puzzled. «The one with the black cap».

«Oh. Yes, yes. I got him. Wait, so the three of you had been regular players for all the three years? All the tournaments? Wow, that's... I mean. Wow. I really need to put my hands on those videos».

«You'll be able soon», Yanagi smiled. They've reached the gym, and according to the yellow balls that rolled out of the door, there was no basketball practice held there that day. «We have found the tennis club».

The three of them peaked in through the open door. Yukimura spotted Kirihara almost immediately, at the center of the smaller group. They were practicing serves, hitting through the wall, while a larger group of guys - almost surely first years who had just signed up - were still doing warming-up exercises on the northern half of the gym.

As Yukimura did before him, Kirihara apparently held practice only for the regulars and the new recruits, sending the rest of the club home: the third gym was a good alternative to no practice at all, but it was not even near to big enough to hold the whole tennis club.

They stood at the door, waiting for the exercise to end before calling Kirihara away from his duties. Yukimura glanced at the guys who were practicing with him, and he was almost sure that they were the new regulars indeed. The major part of them Yukimura himself has suggested to Kirihara before leaving him the title of Captain at the end of his third year. A couple of them, however, were a surprise. Yukimura frowned; not the names he would've chosen for his own team; among the guys that weren't there, there was almost two or three that would've been better suited for the role, in his opinion. He shook his head; it wasn't his duty anymore; he had no right to impose to Kirihara who he had to choose for his own team.

Kirihara was showing how to hit a kick serve to a couple of guys Yukimura recognized as current second years, probably the most promising recruits that joined their club at the beginning of the last year. It was weird to see him teaching something as Captain; Kirihara was the learner, the one with big potential but little capacity to control it. Yukimura looked at Yanagi; he was the one who had been able to guide Kirihara during his junior high years. Sanada yelled at him and slapped him whenever he did something particularly stupid - truth be told, it happened quite often - and Jackal babysat him and listened to his never-ending list of complaints, but Yanagi had been the one who spent hours and hours figuring out his strengths and weaknesses and helping him to improve or overcame them. Yanagi had quit the tennis club after New Year's break and Kirihara had needed some time to learn to quit unconsciously looking for him after every shot he tried at practice. Yukimura suspected they had been keeping practicing together during the weekends, but he didn't know it for certain, and never asked about that.

«Oh. That was cool!», Matsui pointed at Kirihara, who was ready to hit another serve, the eyes of half of the gym hooked on him. «Was that a kick serve?»

«It was», Yanagi nodded. He didn't add that Kirihara renamed it knuckle-serve, nor his secondary effect on his opponent's body. If she was going to borrow the video of their old matches, she would've been able to see that by herself.

«Is he the Captain? Good. It's him I have to talk with, then». She looked around. «That's a pretty cool gym. I'll need to steal one for our club as well. Do you practice here, in winter?»

«Practice is lighter, in winter. And we keep practicing outside, except for the snowy or rainy days», Yukimura replied.

«I see», she rolled a strand of hair across her fingers. «We barely had practice during winter term; we didn't have any assigned gym, and the weather wasn't exactly appropriate to do anything outside», she sighed. «I guess that makes the difference».

Yukimura could only agree. Skipping practice for an entire term would have meant reach the spring preliminaries completely unprepared; not something he would have ever permitted, even if the whole Northern Pole transferred on the courts outside.

Yanagi opened the mouth to say something back, but right in that moment someone yelled «Captaaaiiinnn», and the next thing Yukimura saw was Kirihara running straight towards them, with his teammates glancing at him half confused, half amused.

«Why are you here?», the younger guy stopped in front of them, the largest smile covering his face, the racket still in his hand. «Hi, Yanagi-senpai, and... Eh...»

«She's our current manager», Yanagi explained, as Kirihara's gaze stopped on Matsui with a question mark clearly sparkling above his face.

«I'm Matsui Aki», she introduced herself with a smile.

«She will need to talk to you as soon as you have time for that», Yanagi added.

«Well, I'm kinda free now!», Kirihara replied. «I have to just…»

«No, you aren't», Yukimura stared at him severely. «You're in the middle of a practice. Take it to an end, and then we will have time to talk».

He clearly heard Yanagi's sigh a few steps from him. «Seiichi...», he said, but added nothing. He knew that Yanagi didn't like him to scold Kirihara in front of his team. He already told him that thousand of times after the Nationals, when he was supposed to retire and leave the club in the second year's hands. Yukimura didn't mean to overtake his position, it was just... He shook his head. What Kirihara did or not did as a Captain wasn't his business, shouldn't be his business. That wouldn't have mean he was allowed to slack off during practice.

The smile disappeared from Kirihara's face as quick as it appeared. «You're right», he tentatively said, avoiding Yukimura's gaze. «Well, I'll be back soon. I guess. See you later, Yanagi-senpai, Matsui-senpai. Cap...», he bit his lip, «Yukimura-senpai». He nodded at them, and then walked back to his team, who hadn't took their eyes from him during the entire conversation.

Yanagi sighed again. «Seiichi». Yukimura ignored him.

Matsui was staring at him as well, but said nothing, playing with the fabric of her jacket instead. She closed the umbrella, and laced it to her wrist. «Was he a regular last year?», she asked, as Kirihara resumed his serve practice, without being able to prevent himself to glance in their direction every two seconds.

«Yes», Yanagi simply replied.

«Good. He has the experience to lead his team to the tournaments, then». She shook the umbrella to free it from the water and showered hers and Yanagi's feet. «Oh. Sorry».

Yukimura glanced at Kirihara, who hit an unnecessary powerful serve towards the wall; the ball bounced back and ended hitting one of his teammates' head. Did it have enough experience? To compete in the tournaments, of course. To lead the team successfully? He didn't know. He didn't said his doubts out loud to Yanagi; the Master would have probably addressed him a condescending look and told him to trust Kirihara. Yukimura wanted to, but he wasn't sure he was able to. This is why he had hesitated to leave the team in his hands until the very last minute, although Yanagi had always made him feel like he was doing a mistake.

They remained silent, watching the practice as it went on. Kirihara had no problems to have his teammates listening to him. Yukimura didn't know how good the team actually was. They would've probably needed some practice matches before Tournament Season started, since, save for Kirihara, none of them had actually played in a official match before. Atobe from Hyoutei used to send reserve players to compete in minor matches, but Yukimura always found it irresponsible; moreover, what was happening to the team now was no more his responsibility - how many times did he need to remind himself that? He couldn't count them. Yukimura sighed, as Kirihara announced a pause, and let go his team to get some food or rest on the benches.

They wait for him to reach them again, but he didn't seem eager to do that as before. He finally walked towards them, the right hand dug in the pocket, the left one up to rub his neck.

«You needed to talk», he said, as he reached them.

«How are you doing?», Yanagi asked.

Kirihara shrugged. «Oh, you know. Okay, I guess. Team's good, I'm good. We should have had a practice match today, but none of us had indoor courts, so...», he hinted a laugh, avoiding Yukimura's gaze. «Friday's a day. But yeah. It's good».

Yukimura glanced at him. He didn't seem exactly good, it didn't matter how many times he said that. But he wasn't the one to talk, wasn't he?

«Are you sure? Prefecturals are not far from now», Yanagi scolded him as a worried dad.

Kirihara shrugged. «Yeah, yeah, sure. We're good. Really. There's this first year who's good too. _Echizenish_ good, maybe, with some work. Oh, I don't mean...», he glanced nervously at his former Captain, and Yukimura couldn't keep a smile.

«I'm glad to hear that», and maybe he did mean it too. Kirihara was the same as he's always been, but somehow different too. He was a Team Captain now, Yukimura reminded himself for what could've been the thousandth time. Of course he was different.

Yukimura shook his head; he wasn't sure of the reason he came there anymore. He looked at his former team, strewn around the gym, eating a sandwich or drinking or chatting. He felt nothing.

Kirihara was still staring at him, and Yukimura could read his gaze way too easily, as well as he could read the questions the younger boy didn't dare to ask. Am I doing well? Am I screwing everything up? He had already seen that gaze multiple times during the years, from the moment Kirihara stopped to look at them as only enemies to defeat but also as players he could learn from. Kirihara still needed his approval; Yukimura felt something bitter in his throat. Did he really deserve having Kirihara looking at him like that? Didn't he come there exactly for that reason?

«I should leave, now», he said. His mouth felt dry all of a sudden. Why in the world had he thought he needed to come back to this place?

Three heads turned towards him.

«What», Kirihara flinched. Everything in his face looked guilty. Again, Yukimura could easily tell what was going on in his head. What did I say to make him angry, his expression told.

«You did nothing wrong, Akaya», Yanagi read his mind as easily as always. «And Seiichi, Akaya will be pleased to having you watching over the practice, even if he's too afraid to ask».

Kirihara flustered, lowered his gaze, and then looked at Yukimura again, like a puppy who had just peed on the carpet and asked for apologies.

Yukimura really wanted to leave.

«Oh, please, stay, Yukimura-kun», Matsui chipped in. «Hey, maybe you and Kirihara-kun could play a match? Captain versus former Captain? Oh, please do», she clapped her hands. «What do you think, Kirihara-kun?»

Kirihara's face brightened like a Christmas tree. «Can we? Really? Oh, it would be awesome, it...», he stopped as he met Yukimura's eyes. «Oh. If you want to, I mean. But please, Captain. Can we? Can you?»

Could he? He played against Kirihara unnumbered times during the last two years, starting from the day the younger guy joined the club, confident to be stronger than everyone else there. That was the first of the too many times he lost against the Big Three, whom he swore to defeat one day, before they graduate. That never happened and, according to that last match they played - not more than a month ago - that would never happen anytime soon, if ever, unless some miracle occured.

«I don't have my uniform», he finally said.

«Oh», Kirihara smile faded. «Right», he scratched his head, looked away. «Sure. You didn't come here to play, sorry. I just thought...»

«Seiichi can have mine», Yanagi intervened. «He will probably be a little too big, but it would fit you», he titled his head and looked at him, like he was mentally taking his sizes.

Kirihara moved his gaze from Yanagi to Yukimura, unable to not smile. «Can he? Can you? Oh, please, _senpai_. Can we?»

«Can you?», Matsui looked at him and smiled as well. «Come on, it will be fun. For the team as well. A clash of captains. Sounds like the title of a very trash action movie. Isn't it awesome?»

«Luckily you're wearing sneakers instead the loafers», Yanagi scratched his chin. «My shoes wouldn't fit you at all, I'm afraid. But for an indoor friendly match, the ones you're wearing should be enough».

Yukimura looked at Yanagi, arched his brows. _Really_? He shook his head, but he was smiling. He had never refused a challenge from Kirihara, no matter what. Yukimura gave him a glance; Kirihara was staring at him with the last update of his well-known pair of puppy eyes. Yukimura crossed his arms.

«Will your team be okay?», he asked then.

Kirihara seemed ridiculously happy to hear Yukimura say a thing like _your_ team. He turned to look at his teammates; some of them where near enough to have heard most of the conversation.

«Will you play for real, _senpai_?» One of the new regulars approached the small group; Yukimura recognized him as Yamamoto. He had got a powerful serve, he recalled, and a good level of stamina.

«Yukimura-san will play?», someone else asked from the background. Soon the gym was filled with chatting and Yukimura couldn't even count the number of times someone said " _please_ ".

He turned to look at Yanagi, who shrugged and smiled, as he was saying, _how can you disappoint them now_?

«It would be amazing to see you play again, Yukimura _senpai_ ».

Yukimura breathed. He didn't came there to play tennis, but what if he did exactly came from that? His fingertips were itching, as he stared at the white stripe that limited the baseline running on the floor. He didn't picked up a racket since the day he left the tennis club. He wanted to play. He really wanted to.

«Renji», he asked, «can I have your bag?»

...

Yukimura's return ace smashed through the gym, the sound of the ball hitting the parquet echoing to the ceiling. The first years gathered at the sidelines could barely contain their excitement. That wooden surface wasn't the ideal for a tennis match, but it was better than having no place to practice at all. The white lines that marked the tennis court had been put down by Yukimura, Sanada and Yanagi themselves during their second year, when they finally gained the right to use that place every time they needed to. Those were the privileges you could gain for club activities merits, in a school like Rikkai. Yukimura was planning to ask for a proper indoors court after their third victory in a row - none of them would have been able to take advantage of that, of course, but it would've been their legacy, the permanent mark of their successes in the club - but things didn't go according to the plan, and this is why Yukimura put his greatest efforts to obtain the completion of the rooftop garden before graduating instead. Not the legacy he would've wanted to leave, Yanagi knew that, but at least it was something.

«Doesn't he do the thing?», Matsui asked, as Yukimura and Kirihara were changing courts. Yukimura lead the score from 2-0 up.

He didn't need to ask Kirihara how he was doing as a Captain. No matter how many times he repeated that "all was good", it was clear it wasn't. He already noticed something was wrong while texting with him the previous week. Now, watching him with his team, more details were clear to the Master's eyes. The too little number of guys attending the practice, even for an indoor session on a rainy day. The smirk on some of their lips, when Kirihara ran towards Yukimura. And the even wider grins, now that he was playing and, indubitably, losing. Yanagi sighed; he wasn't something he could solve for him, even if he was tempted to do so; Kirihara needed to learn to take care of his team by yourself, no matter how hard it was.

He turned towards Matsui. «What thing?»

«You know, the thing. The thing he did in that practice match, against that drama guy. Oh, did you know he retired from the club? Morimura-san said he wouldn't have lasted a week anyways, if he retired only for that. Oh, yeah, that wasn't the point. The thing he did against him, isn't he doing that now?»

«Seiichi doesn't need to use the Yips against Akaya», Yanagi shook his head, and smiled, as Yukimura took his position on the baseline and prepared to serve again. «Akaya's level isn't that high yet to force him to that. Moreover, they knew each other's styles so well, so Seiichi can easily take advantage of Akaya's weak points without needing to play all of his cards».

Matsui chewed his lip. «Yips, you called it? And how it worked exactly?»

Yanagi chuckled. «This is what some people would call a million dollar question, Matsui».

She shrugged. «I don't have a million dollar. Guess I've to figure it out myself».

«I wish you good luck, then».

She crossed her arms, and stared at Yukimura intensely. That wouldn't have helped her. If reading Yukimura's play were that easy, he wouldn't have gained the nickname of Child of God. In fact, Yanagi had been really impressed by what Morimura had did in that match. He didn't know if the Captain had been studying Yukimura's play anytime before their match, but he didn't think so. He had figured out that Yukimura was trying every move to drag him into a long rally, and he just did everything he could to avoid that.

It was Yukimura's basic strategy when he faced a stronger opponent, but as far as Yanagi knew, that was the first and only time the trick simply didn't work. Seigaku's Echizen had been the first one to overcame the Yips and get back in the game, as well as Morimura had been the first to avoid the Yips at all. It wasn't like Yukimura's tennis had been destroyed, the Master knew: the former Captain had more than that up his sleeve; but he also knew that when your best weapon had been killed out twice, it wasn't easy to regain the confidence again.

Anyone around Yukimura knew that feeling as well, and there was no-one in the world that knew that more than Kirihara. Kirihara, who tried month by month, week by week to overcame the three of them, who practiced more than anyone to enforce his weapons and overcome his weaknesses, and who just kept hitting a wall over and over.

In that moment, he was struggling at the baseline. His form got better, Yanagi noticed, and even his Kick Serve - the Knuckle Serve wouldn't have been effective against Yukimura, who was able to hit the ball back, no matter which was the angle of bouncing - had got more power, though he still lacked precision.

«He's doing good», Matsui said, as Kirihara ran at the net to return a drop shot. «But Yukimura-kun's doing better».

«You can tell?», Yanagi asked.

Matsui chuckled. «You just told me that. But yes, I can tell. He's barely moving, isn't he?», he pointed her chin towards Yukimura. «He's like an orchestra leader. He's not playing the game, he's directing it».

Yanagi looked at her. She was following the game closely, chewing her pinkie's nail. He didn't know much about her. The school she formerly attended - Iwamoto Junior High - didn't appear in the Nationals for the last fifteen years. Their best result so far had been the second place in the Regionals achieved the previous year, but none of the players had ever been in Yanagi's radar.

Matsui winced, as Yukimura's backhand hit the left tramline like a bullet, taking Kirihara - and everyone else - completely off-guard.

When he wasn't trying to drag people in long rallies - to catch them in the web of the Yips - Yukimura was able of changing the game's pace as he pleased, and Yanagi had never seen anyone able to catch up with that.

He was truly like an orchestra leader, as Matsui said. Yanagi observed her closely. He didn't need to keep his eyes on the court; he knew both of the players too well, and he could've already played their entire match in his head and predicted the outcome, point by point. He didn't even recall how many times he had already seen them playing before.

For Matsui, on the other hand, it was the very first time - according to the fact that she was telling the truth, of course, but Yanagi couldn't find any reason why she should've been lying about that. Checking her reaction would've provided more interesting and useful data.

Matsui had her eyes stuck on Yukimura, with the mouth half open and the hand frozen in front of her lips. He tried to read through her expression what was like seeing Yukimura's game - his _real_ game - for the first time. His movements were perfect, with nothing unnecessary. Kirihara could barely keep up with his rhythm. Yukimura hadn't practiced regularly for at least two months - if he had at all - due to exams and graduation duties; and still, Kirihara needed to give everything he had, until the last drop of sweat, to take away one single point from his former Captain.

«Dammit!», Kirihara smashed his racket on the floor. It bounced on the head with a echoing, dull sound, then glided out of the court. Someone held their breath; then, the gym was filled with nothing but utter silence.

The scoreboard still signaled Yukimura 5-0 up. By far, Kirihara had been able to take from him no more than six points.

The first year guys looked shocked, but their older mates were more than accustomed to such scenes, which kept happening over and over, week after week, for the previous two years. Someone moved towards him, as he wanted to help, but Yanagi clearly heard someone whisper "pussy", too loud to not be heard.

«Why», Matsui asked, her eyes still stuck on the court. It was clear that the game was over. Yukimura had already left the court, directed to the changing rooms. Kirihara was standing still; he didn't react at all, if he had even heard it, to his teammate's comment, his back turned to the court, heavy breathing, but saying nothing.

Yanagi smiled. «I think you can easily guess why by yourself. Losing with such a score gap is clearly frustrating, and even if I couldn't say Akaya isn't anything than used to that, I still...»

«I mean», she cut him off, «why didn't he play like that the other day as well?» She looked angry. «Oh, come on. Don't tell me he absolutely needed to use his Majestic Hips Move against that drama guy in the tennis club. Don't tell me he couldn't just do that», he gestured towards the court, «and get rid of him in like what, three seconds? Two?»

Yanagi pressed his lips. This wasn't a question she should've asked him. He had an answer, of course, but he wasn't the one meant to give her one. He didn't answer to Sanada as well, when he asked him the very same question.

"You need to ask Seiichi, if you want to know his reasons", Yanagi had told him. Sanada just shook his head, and walked away. Yanagi perfectly understood the reasons behind his behavior, but it wasn't something he could simply point out for him. There wasn't any misinterpretation behind Yukimura and Sanada's conflict. If they simply weren't able to understand each other, that wasn't a wall Yanagi - or anybody else - could destroy in their place.

«Why are you so angry about that?», he asked Matsui instead.

«Isn't this obvious?», she shook her head. «He's so good. Like, Federer good. Oh! I don't mean he's as good as Federer, no-one is. I mean, even if God himself would walk on Earth and compete in a Slam, he wouldn't be as good as Federer is. No, it's a matter oh how he looks, not what he is. Oh. Shit. I suck at explanations», she rubbed her hair, and sighed. «I mean, you know, you watch him play, okay? And when he plays, tennis looks so _easy_ you start to think that the top is so close even _you_ 'd be able to touch it. But it's just an illusion. The top of the iceberg is all shiny and glittering and crap, but what's underneath, _God_ , is so much, whether is talent or practice or both, is just _much_. You can't see that, or the illusion will shatter, but there is. And that's what make him play like a damn genius out there».

Yanagi chuckled. «And that makes you mad». It wasn't a question.

«Sure it makes me mad. He's so good, and it's out of the club just because...», she shook her head, tapped her foot in frustration. «I don't even know why?! It's all looks just ridiculous at this point. What's this guy doing out of the club?!»

«Out of the club?», Kirihara revived, and lifted his head to meet Yanagi's eyes. The Master sighed.

«Akaya», he said, as Yukimura was walking back to the gym, Yanagi's bag hanging from his left shoulder. «Do you mind if I lend Matsui some videos of our old matches, before we go home? We should really leave right now».

Kirihara looked confused. His gaze went from Yanagi to Yukimura to Yanagi again, while his former Captain was approaching. «Is something», Kirihara swallowed, «is there something wrong?»

«Your serve», Yukimura answered behind Kirihara shoulders. The younger guy turned to meet his Captain's eyes. «You need to work harder on that. Your precision is still weak when you're not aiming at your opponent's body. If you're working for a larger number or aces, you'll need to learn how to improve your aim and your power control. It's still not enough».

«That's..», Kirihara started. _That's not what I meant_ , he wanted to say, but his words flickered away in front of Yukimura's harsh gaze. «Thank you. Yukimura-senpai».

«If there something you need, you can always call. Renji, or me, right?»

Kirihara nodded. «Yes. Thank you».

Yanagi wondered if Yukimura too had noticed that something was wrong with Kirihara and the club. He probably did, but had also decided to not interfere. Probably he had already interfered too much, not leaving Kirihara familiarizing with the club as a Captain while he was still a second year.

«Akaya», Yanagi called him back from his thoughts, «the videos».

«Oh», Kirihara blinked, «Oh. Sure. I mean, you don't even need to ask, you...», Yanagi glanced at him. «Yes. You can borrow them. Let me know when you're done with those». _Better_. «But», Kirihara lowered his voice, «do you really need to go now? You can stay, you know, we...»

«You'll need to go back to your duties as well», Yanagi reminded him. «I will call you tonight. If you want to», he said quietly, so none of Kirihara's teammates could've heard him. They started to walk towards the door; Matsui kept glancing towards Yukimura, who was completely neglecting her.

Kirihara nodded. «Okay. Well, thank you for coming. You know where the clubroom is, ri... Oh. Don't mind me. I'm stupid».

Yanagi smiled. «Take care, Akaya. See you».

Kirihara waved them goodbye while they walked towards the clubrooms. The rain had stopped, but the ground was still soaked and full with ponds, as the sky got darker and darker. A cold, late-winter breeze was blowing.

They walked in silence, as they reached the clubroom. Yanagi chose a selection of videos and handed them to Matsui, who was staring at the trophies and plaques which decorate walls and shelves. «There are more in the Trophies Room», Yanagi informed her.

She nodded, but didn't reply as she shoved the DVDs in her schoolbag. She kept glancing at Yukimura, who was waiting for them outside the room.

«No», Yanagi told her.

She looked at him. «Sorry?»

«You can talk to him tomorrow, if you want to. I don't want to tell you what to do», he rephrased, «but if you accept an advice, I wouldn't talk to him today. Tomorrow is a better choice».

Matsui looked at him, then nodded. «Guess you know him well», she sighed. «I really really want to scroll him now and force him to come to the Captain with me and beg to be admitted back, but it wouldn't be a great idea, wouldn't it?»

«Definitely not».

«I guess I need to study a battle plan then», she sighed again, then she grinned. «I'll start with these ones». She put the last DVD in her bag, then closed the zip and hung it on her shoulder. «And with the two of you. Three. There's another one, right? You need to introduce me to him tomorrow».

Yanagi prefigured the scene in his head, and couldn't help but smiling. «It will be my pleasure», he replied, as they reached Yukimura out in the night, to leave the too familiar Middle School grounds behind them.

* * *

...

* * *

This chapter kinda slipped from my hands?! I wasn't planning to add Akaya as a character to this story, and obviously here he is. This clearly explains how much control I have on all this. Still, Akaya is a precious angel and I loved writing about him; he still needs to grow a lot as Captain and person, the heritage his seniors left to him is everything but easy to handle I think. Not that Yukimura is doing anything better, to be honest.

As always, thank you so much for reading this. See you as soon as possible, and belated Happy New Year! I wish it'll bring you sweets and fun and successes in everything you do!

Lots of love,

Fanny.

 _Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi_

 _Created a kingdom, reached for the wisdom, failed in becoming a God [Nightwish – Dead Boy's Poem]_


	7. Chapter 7

**7\. It doesn't hurt me, you wanna feel how it feels?**

The dawn was still cold.

Sanada adjusted the scarf around his neck, trying to block out the sharp wind. The sky was the same pale grey of dirty ice, but the sun wasn't yet on sight. The soup he had had for breakfast felt heavy in his stomach. He usually was hungry after his morning training, but the prospect of two tests in the morning and the ranking matches in the afternoon didn't put that day in a good light to begin with.

He turned at the street corner to reach the crosswalk. His eyes went automatically at the opposite side; it was empty, except for a black cat which disappeared behind a fence at his sight. All the street was empty as well, a couple of cars passing by, the headlights still on.

Sanada gave a last glance at the sidewalk, then took his way towards school. This was so stupid. If he wanted to talk to Yukimura, he knew perfectly where to find him. Their classrooms were in the same hallway, just a couple of doors away from each other. He attended the Yukimura s house since he was a kid. He knew his phone number by heart, his mail as well, he knew his usual hangout spots. He could literally find him with his eyes closed.

But why it always have to be him?

It took no more than a day to Sanada to realize everybody was waiting for him to go and talk to Yukimura. Yanagi especially did, but he wasn't the only one. Sanada had expected that as well; it had been the first thing that came to his own mind: reach Yukimura wherever he was and slap the sense back in his head. But _why_.

He had been about to leave his house, to take the familiar path which brought to Yukimura's; he had already the jacket on when he froze still in the middle of his bedroom and just asked himself, _why_. Wasn't Yukimura the one who owed him an explanation? He had built the entire conversation in his head. As the imaginary Yukimura in his mind kept talking, Sanada found himself more and more irritated. In the end, he had hung his jacket back on the coat peg, and changed his school uniform for house clothes. He had then spent the evening at the _dojo_ , trying to recollect his thoughts, but the anger didn't disappear.

The following day Yukimura didn't show up at their usual meeting spot, even though Sanada had waited for him so long he almost arrived late at practice. There was no reason for Yukimura to go to school so early if he didn't have to attend club activities, Sanada was well aware of that, but he waited anyway, shivering in the cold morning wind.

He avoided Yanagi's glances and Marui's obnoxious questions once he reached the club, quickly changing in his tennis uniform and cap. He ran faster than usual during the warming up, aware that physical strain was the quickest way to let the anger flow away. And Sanada was angry; angrier than he had ever been with Yukimura before.

He had been angry with him lots of times, but only a few were serious. When Yukimura fell sick, Sanada had been out of his mind. How you dare, _how you dare_ , he had wanted to yell, but he couldn't, and he had no right to get angry in the first place, because of course, of course, it wasn't Yukimura's fault, and yet..

And then he had told him he wanted to undergo the surgery. From his mother's look, Sanada realized how many discussion had already happened in that hospital room, how many _don't you dare_ , how many tears, and treats, and surrenders. That was the thing with Yukimura, no matter which battle he was fighting, in the end you always had to surrender, being him on a tennis court or in a hospital bed, the outcome wouldn't have changed.

«I want to play tennis again», he said, in a tone that scared Sanada: flat, yet determined. «If you take tennis away from me, I won't have anything left». He looked so serious while saying that, Sanada didn't have problems believing him.

There were other reasons for surgery. Yukimura's mother told him in the hallway, after her son asked - no, he yelled - Sanada to leave. The surgery had its risks, she told him, but doing nothing was risky as well. The doctors agreed that it was the better choice, she added, the surgeon was the most titled in all Kanagawa prefecture, graduated from Tokyo University, he got his Master's Degree in the States... The more she spoke, the more she looked like she was trying to reassure herself more than Sanada. She was scared, and she couldn't hide it, no matter what encouragement words she spoke. He wasn't reassured at all as he left the hospital, but he knew there was nothing he could say, or Yukimura's mother could say, or anyone else, to make Yukimura change his mind once he had decided something. And he was angry, to Yukimura who talked about the possibility to die as he was talking about the risk to get rain on a tournament day; angry because he was just expecting him to accept that and to keep his focus on tennis - _tennis_ , like that meant anything to Sanada back then. It did, in the end. Yukimura was expecting that from him, and Sanada owed him that. At least, he felt like he did.

The same Yukimura that stated that he was ready to risk his life in order to play tennis again - the same one threw everything away for what? _For what_.

He turned left at the crossroad. He didn't hesitate anymore; on the first few days, he risked multiple times to take the wrong direction, turning right towards Rikkai Junior High Department, as he had done every day for three years.

On his first day of High School he realized the mistake only after hearing Yukimura chuckling behind his shoulders. _This way_ , he had told to a slightly embarrassed Sanada. _I was expecting this to happen_ , he had added, ignoring Sanada's requests to stop laughing.

There were a few people in dark green jackets already walking through the High School Department; Sanada followed them, regretting to not having his cap as the rising sun hit him right in the face.

«You walk too fast».

Sanada turned around. In two steps, Yukimura reached him.

«You're not even late. There's no need for you to arrive before everyone else to open up the locker room anymore, you know».

Sanada mentally counted to ten, then to twenty, and yet his wish to punch Yukimura in the face only grew bigger. How dare him, after acting like a child for days, to just show up and speak and smile like nothing happened...

As he had heard his thoughts - and Sanada guessed they had been painted quite clearly on his face - Yukimura instantly become serious.

«I won't apologize», he said. «Renji told me you were probably expecting that from me, but I won't do that».

«What do you want, then?», Sanada replied, not as harsh as he meant to be.

Yukimura looked ad him. «To talk. To you», he paused. «With you».

«I have practice».

«Skip it».

Sanada stared at him. He should have been making fun of him. But nothing in Yukimura's face suggested that he was making a (very lame) joke.

«You», Sanada pointed his finger, «are telling me», he raised his voice, «to skip practice».

He wasn't even angry. It was just ridiculous to hear.

«The ranking matches are set for this afternoon, right?», Yukimura moved aside to let a group of girls walk past them. «You'll be fine».

«You'd had days to come and talk to me». It wasn't about skipping practice or not. It was a matter of principle. As always, Yukimura was expecting him to give up everything he was doing and do what he demanded instead.

(He realized it only months later, and it hit him like a cold shower. Yukimura had never said "I leave the team to your care" from his hospital bed. What he did say was, "I leave my team to your care". Sanada's task wasn't to guide Rikkai, but to assure they'd fulfill Yukimura's plan for them. What hit him even harder was the fact that the sudden realization didn't surprise him at all).

«I couldn't sleep tonight», Yukimura continued, as if Sanada hadn't even spoken. «In fact, I hadn't slept at all. I thought. A lot».

«Maybe you should skip school and go home to get some sleep instead». Sanada's voice came out as bitter as he meant it to be this time.

Yukimura didn't seem affected by that. «Can I treat you some coffee? I feel like I really need one».

Sanada didn't want coffee. But he didn't want to go to practice as well. As much as the mere idea of skipping practice sound inappropriate to him, as much as he wanted to slap Yukimura more than talking to him, Sanada knew he would do exactly what Yukimura wanted him to do. But that didn't mean it shouldn't be at his own terms too.

«I think you should apologize», he said, staring at the street before him, deliberately avoiding Yukimura's eyes.

«I don't have anything to apologize for», Yukimura said, after a brief pause.

«I think you have», Sanada wouldn't let him win the battle so easily this time.

«And what, exactly, Sanada?», Yukimura's laughter was bitter. «To not live up to your expectations? I-»

«You wanted _me_ to apologize», Sanada turned to look at him, «when I didn't live up to your expectations».

Yukimura lifted his chin, without moving his gaze from Sanada's. Eventually he took a step back. «Those weren't my expectations», he replied, confirming he knew exactly what Sanada was talking about. «Those were our plans. Our promise», he shook his head, and smiled, bitterly, «our promise to each other», he added, in a mocking tone Sanada didn't appreciate.

«I apologized to you when I lost», he replied, firm. «I never asked you to apologize when you lost». No-one had. No one had wanted to, as far as Sanada knew. «I want you to do it now. Not because you didn't live up to my expectations. Because you spat on everything we did until now».

«What did we do, Sanada?» A cool breeze rose up from the sea. Yukimura shivered.

«We had a promise», Sanada replied, «as you said».

«Yeah», Yukimura crossed his arms. He hadn't his jacket on, Sanada didn't notice before.

«We should take that coffee», Sanada said, «and continue this conversation inside. Before you catch a cold».

«I'm not catching anything», Yukimura said, as he stifled a sneeze.

«Usual place?»

«Fine to me».

They walked in silence towards the coffee shop in front of middle school. There were a couple of them near the High School Department as well, but they were used to that one, in which they passed long hours planning the matches during winter, or just hanging out after practice when it rained. When they entered it was already full of employees on the way to work, and some students having breakfast before school-time. Sanada and Yukimura got their order, and managed to sat at a table just let free by two girls in middle school uniform.

Sanada waited for his coffee to cool down, squinting at Yukimura blending his white coffee in hypnotic, regular circles.

«You said you wanted to talk», Sanada said, if only to break that long, awkward silence that started to make him uncomfortable. Sanada didn't mind the silence, but he hated when it was filled of unspoken words.

«You said I spat on everything we did», Yukimura lifted his cup to take a sip, then changed his mind. He stared straight at Sanada. «You really think that?»

Sanada frowned. Did he? The most honest answer was yes, right now, but he stayed silent. If Yukimura wanted to talk to him, he wanted him to go straight to the point. He briefly glanced at the clock. Practice should be already started.

Yukimura sighed. «You want to hold this grudge to me for how long, Sanada?»

So, now he was the one holding a grudge. He sure was good at turning tables.

«I'm just waiting for you to talk».

«I can't hold a conversation alone».

«I never realized this was a problem for you».

Yukimura sighed; it may have been childish, but Sanada felt a sense of satisfaction in being the one who put his patience on test, for a change. Yukimura drove his attention back to his cup of coffee, just long enough to let Sanada feel guilty for his stubbornness.

«So, how are you?», he asked.

Yukimura glanced up, and smiled. «Are you worried, Sanada?»

«I have been», Sanada said, bluntly, and that seemed to surprise him. «You didn't offer a great show, last time I saw you».

«It wasn't a show», Yukimura said.

«And what was it?»

«A point».

 _A point._ Sanada glanced at him, but Yukimura was staring out of the window again, at the Junior High students who were swarming towards the open gates. To Sanada, it had been a show indeed. A show in which Yukimura planned to star as the hero and ended up performing the role of the defeated villain; a poor, crippled reply of his performance in Junior High, with a completely different outcome. He wondered if Yukimura had been aware of that. What he meant with "point", he didn't understand.

«Would you mind to explain?»

Yukimura kept glancing out how the window, occasionally tapping on the table with the spoon. «You know what I'm able to do», he finally said.

Sanada arched his eyebrows. «So?»

Yukimura blinked. _Tap. Tap. Tap._ «Now everyone does».

Sanada wanted to laugh, but he wasn't even slightly amused. «And you're on the sidelines now».

Yukimura clenched his mouth. Sanada had seen him like that a huge number of times before, even if he wasn't sure Yukimura was aware that his pantomime had ceased to work with him a long time ago. He was the way he acted, like he had everything under control, like everything that happened to him, being good or bad, was just part of his plan, a piece of puzzle he knew exactly where to place. In his disease, in defeat, nothing was wrong; except that it was. Right now, it was no exception; Yukimura still acted like leaving the tennis club had been his decision, like it wasn't a big deal, just another piece of puzzle that fitted perfectly in, exactly where he meant to put it.

«Bullshit», Sanada said out loud.

Too loud, in fact. A young couple from the nearest table turned to look at him in disapproval. Sanada lowered his head in a apology, then turned back to Yukimura, who seemed mildly worried, mildly amused by his outburst.

«Could you just quit it?», he said, unable to stop.

«Quit what?»

«Quit to pretend that everything's all right. To pretend that the failure is never yours. Just admit you've made a mistake, once in your life». It took almost all his self control to not yell to him.

Yukimura didn't change expression. «Did I make a mistake?»

«Yes, you did». Sanada wouldn't step back. Not this time.

«And which one, exactly?», Yukimura asked, coldly.

Sanada breathed hard, and shook his head, trying to recollect his thoughts. «How many practice matches did you have with Akaya, during the years?»

This seemed to take him unprepared. Yukimura frowned. «I don't know. How could I?», he grimaced. «Countless?»

Yanagi probably could tell them the exact number, Sanada told himself. But that wasn't the point. «And how many times did you use the Yips against him?»

Yukimura laughed. «Oh, I see», he glanced up, smiling bitterly. «Yes, Sanada, I'll cut it short for you. I didn't need to. I wanted to».

«And can't you see nothing wrong with that?»

Yukimura glared at him. «In playing my tennis when I'm called to face an opponent? I don't. Do you?»

«I do», Sanada glared back. «You could've take a clean win from him. You lost points because you were more focused in showing off than in playing tennis. You-»

«And who exactly you are, for telling me that?»

«I'm your friend!», Sanada lifted his fits and blocked a second before slamming it on the table. All right. He needed to calm down. «And I think you did a really stupid thing back then, and still holding your pride like you aren't aware as well of how stupid it was, and-»

«You're talking to me about pride?» Now Yukimura looked truly amused, and Sanada found it rather offensive. He was being deadly serious. He had no right to laugh.

«I'm talking to you about stupidity», he replied.

Yukimura lifted the spoon again, tapping on the table, glancing away. «I know what I did. But you know what?»

Sanada waited. Realizing that Yukimura was waiting for a hint, he nodded.

«I know myself enough to realize that, having the chance to turn back time, I'd do the very same thing». He shook his head. «But it isn't a chance we had in the first place, right?»

He was serious again, and Sanada realized that it would probably be the thing nearest to a self-criticism that he would hear coming out from his mouth.

«It is not», Sanada told him. «But that doesn't mean you can't admit your mistakes and try to fix them».

«Isn't it the same thing?», Yukimura asked. «Like trying to turn back time. It's pointless. You can only go forward».

«Trying to fix your mistakes isn't pointless. Running away is».

Yukimura frowned. «I'm not running away».

«Aren't you?»

Yukimura looked at his cup of coffee, still half empty, the drink inside probably cold. He took a sip, grimaced, and pushed the cup away. «I think I'll get a new one».

«It's almost time to go», Sanada warned him. He wanted to put that issue to an end before school time. If Yukimura ended to avoid his questions and started to give proper answers, they would save a lot of time.

«I'll take it away», he got up, pick up both the cups and walked towards the counter.

Sanada waited for him to come back with a steaming paper cup. They went out of the coffee shop in silence, and began walking towards the High School Department. None of them said nothing until they reached the school.

«Do you think I can?», Yukimura asked, as they reached the hallway that brought to both their classrooms. The school was already crowded, and first period was about to begin. They met Marui on the stairs, and as he saw them together Sanada clearly saw his urge to turn around and walk away. Yukimura smiled and greeted him, but the redhead didn't cease to look at them suspiciously as he greeted back, as they were carrying a bomb into the school.

«You can what?», Sanada asked.

«Fix it».

Sanada looked at him, surprised. Yukimura wasn't avoiding his gaze, but staring at him right in the eyes.

«If you want to», he replied.

Yukimura nodded, and said nothing else, as he walked away to reach his own classroom. Sanada looked at his back, wondering if things were really as complicated as they turned them to be. He left for his class as well, his mind struggling to focus on the tests to come.

* * *

Matsui stood on tiptoe, biting her tongue, fully focused on her task. She spread her arms, and the poster she was trying to pin up on the notice board slipped away from her fingers, landing back on her face. «Brilliant».

Someone laughed behind her back. «Maybe you need an helping hand?»

Matsui tried her best to free herself from the paper veil, possibly without ruining it; it took her three hours and half to get it done, if she'd need to redraw it from the start she would probably start to scream.

«Here». Suddenly she could see again, and she smiled at her savior.

«Knew it was you. What are you doing here, Kageyama-chan?»

Kageyama Kou smiled back, lending her the poster. «Mizu-san sent me here; told me you would've had a racket for me».

Matsui nodded, as she glared towards the wall, wondering what strategy she would need to use to be finally able to pin up that thing on there. «We should have some spare rackets in the clubroom. You don't have any?»

Kageyama shook her head. «Mizu-san said the boys' club stole all of them. I still haven't bought one, so...»

«What? And how did you play until now?»

Kageyama laughed. «I didn't?», she shrugged. «I mean, I was surprised when they told us we would be practicing the serve today. It's not like we even started to hit a ball yet».

Matsui nodded again. Kageyama had already told her that she was an absolute beginner on tennis, despite her knowing the rules for watching games in the past.

«You should wait», she told her, as the poster almost slipped away from her hands, again. She needed to hurry up and hung the thing before destroying it for good. «To buy a racket, I mean. You need to get one that is best suited for you. I think you can use school rackets as long as you need them, even if they probably aren't the best for competition».

Kageyama snorted. «It's not like I'll ever see competition at all», she shook her head. «Matsui-chan, are you sure you don't need help...?»

Matsui turned to look at Kegayama and the whole head she was taller than her, then nodded in approval.

«Can you keep this on the board while I secure it with the pins? Promise I'll do my best to avoid your fingers».

«So reassuring». Kageyama took the poster from her hands and effortlessly leaned it right under the upper edge of the board. Matsui almost needed to jump to pierce the pins on the corners.

Then she took a few steps backwards, admiring the result. Good. Even the dumbest dumb who had ever dumbed on the campus would be able to understand where and when the matches would be played. She had wondered if she should've drawn a map too, but Morimura told her that you needed to be absolutely stupid to get lost between five courts which were exactly one after the other. She thought it wouldn't be a good idea to tell him she really managed to get lost on her first day; it wouldn't have given him a good impression of her qualities as a manager.

Kageyama peaked from behind her shoulder. «What is this?»

«Ranking matches schedules», Matsui tilted her head. She did her best to make her calligraphy understandable, but the result from down there was a still a little messy. «Can you read well?»

«It's written big enough I could read it even if I needed two-inches thick glasses», Kageyama replied. «Are you holding ranking matches? For the spots in matches?»

«More or less». She had written everything in hiragana, and she even used different colours for singles and doubles. No way it would be difficult to understand. Right?

«I don't think we have any», Kageyama considered. «I don't know. The regulars practice on their own, and we haven't been told anything about the tournaments either».

«Lovelies», said a voice behind them. «Get out of my way».

Matsui and Kageyama both jumped by the side, as a tall guy with glasses and a undercut walked past them, towards the locker room.

«A regular?», Kageyama asked.

Matsui nodded. Somehow, it was easy to tell. The regulars wore no different suit and their uniform was the same as every other member's, but they had a special aura that made them recognisable alone. Well, some of them, at least. Morimura and Asou surely had it. Even Hongo, in his own way. But when she met Kuroba on the courts, the day before, and she asked him if he was a new member and if he needed her to show him the way to the locker room... Well, she didn't mention that accident when she asked Asou records and pictures of all the regular players, and she hoped that Kuroba as well wasn't a talkative person and had a very short memory.

«Minami Akito», she added, as the guy disappeared behind the fence that encircled the courts. It took her all night long to memorize their faces and names. «Or Akira». And yet she didn't do a good job, did she? «Something with Aki. Whatever». She had all the records in the bag she left on the bleachers, she would check the names again later.

«This way», she told Kageyama. They left the courts, in which the first players were starting to gather, and they walked past the locker room - someone screamed loudly behind the door, Matsui decided to do not investigate - towards the clubroom, who served as well as captain's office, but which in fact was a storage room with a desk, a computer and two chairs arranged inside like in a tetris game. She remembered seeing the spare rackets' rack just under the window. Of course, as she and Kageyama walked in the room, it wasn't there.

Kageyama looked around. «Wow. You have lots of stuff here».

«Can you see the rackets between the stuff?»

«Nope».

«Thought so».

Okay. Let's play a game. If the rackets weren't there, they should've been somewhere else. Brilliant. Where? She scratched her neck, then kneeled on the ground to look under the desk. The only thing she found was the acknowledgment that the place really needed to be swept.

«Do you need something?»

A pair of gym shoes and mustard-yellow sweatpants appeared in her field of vision. She looked up to see Morimura entering the room - and addressing her a glance that meant "I'm not gonna ask what you're doing on the floor". He reached the desk and switched the computer on. The old Mac buzzed loudly, and the noise of the fans filled the small room. The computer was probably the only tennis club member which had reached the drinking age; every time Matsui had to use it, she was worried it could explode just under her bare hands.

«Do you know where the spare rackets are?», she asked Morimura, as she got back on her feet. Her hands and knees were dirty with dust. «And please, tell me they were behind that window until yesterday». She wiped away the dirt from her knees and cleaned the hands on the sweatpants. They needed laundry anyway.

«Asou brought them to the courts, in case anyone needed one». Amazing. Exactly where they were coming from. «Believe it or not, it wouldn't be the first time people show up to play in ranking matches without having a racket. Why aren't you there, by the way?»

«Kageyama-chan needs a racket. She said you guys stole them all».

«I didn't!», Kageyama hissed, her cheeks turning bright red as she glanced at Morimura, alarmed. He just slapped the Mac, who kept buzzing undisturbed. «I told you Mizu-san said that-», Kageyama stopped, and her hand went to cover her lips.

«If Mizuhara has a problem with the storage organization, I'm always open to discussion», Morimura replied, in a tone that said he definitely was not. «You'll find the rackets outside the main court. Take what you need. Matsui, are you still here?»

Matsui sighed. «Got it. Let's go», she opened the door to let Kageyama walk out. «See you later». Morimura's only answer was shaking the monitor with badly-repressed anger.

«The courts are over there», she told Kageyama. The girl glared at her.

«If Mizu-san kills me, I'll haunt your dreams until the day you die».

«Why should she?», Matsui gave her a puzzled look.

«Well, for going around telling people she thinks they're thieves... Oh, nevermind. She's probably one that'd say the exact same thing to their faces. And then make them kneel and beg her forgiveness», she shook her head, the face back to her usual complexion. «Who was he? The captain?»

Matsui nodded. «Not in his best day, though, I guess. Thinking about it, I don't think he even has best days».

«You told me he was nice», Kageyama glanced behind her shoulders, to the closed door of the Captain office.

«Mh», Matsui hesitated. «Overall, I think he is». She shrugged. «You said your Captain was nice, too».

«Honestly, we only met her once», Kageyama said. «In the beginning, Asada-chan- my friend, you remember her, right? From class six?»

«The one you said she's pretty good, right?»

«Yeah. We were thinking Mizu-san was the Captain. Everyone believed that, because she behaved like one, you know? Giving orders, screaming at us, complaining-»

«I kinda know», Matsui said. Their Captain during their second year was exactly like that. It had been the first and only time she really thought about quitting the club, but the second years were good, and she had been patient and stayed.

«But in the end Anzai-san - the Captain - showed up, and we had been all surprised. She said she was happy we were there, that she hoped we were working well with Mizu-san- just a lot of words, to be honest. We usually see her and the other regulars practicing on their own, but that's all».

«The same goes for us», Matsui said, as they crossed the fence to reach the main court. Some guys were gathered in front of her masterpiece, checking their turn to play. «Morimura-san is most closed in the office, and Hongo-san», she laughed. «It's anywhere but on the court, probably. Asou-san is nice. He's usually helping me with stuff. He's the vice-captain».

«I don't even know who the vice-captain is», Kageyama sighed. «No, it's not Mizu-san. We asked, and turned out she's the manager. Self-proclaimed», she lowered her voice. «A second year girl told us she really really wanted to become the Captain, but the previous one chose Anzai-san instead».

«That explains a lot», Matsui said.

Kageyama giggled. «I think that too. But I think she respects the Captain anyway. She just enjoys her time being in charge of yelling at us», she sighed. «But to be fair, she's harsh, but not mean. Just bluntly honest, I think».

They stepped into the main court, Matsui glancing around, trying to detect where the rackets were. There was a little number of spectators gathered on the bleachers. Matsui didn't expect they would have any for the ranking matches at all. They barely had had any when they held practice matches with other schools, back in Junior High. She definitely underestimate the popularity of sports in a powerhouse school, didn't she? When she took a glance at their budget for the prefecturals - transportation, laundry, equipment needs, etc. - she almost screamed. No risk to have to use public transportation when they could use private buses. She definitely was enjoying life at Rikkai.

«Oh, there they are, Kageyama-chan!», she stopped. «What's left of them, at least. I suggest you to start run and grab one as soon as you can».

Matsui could swear there were at least fifteen or twenty rackets on that rack, when it was safe in the captain's office. Now there were barely five, and not the best ones they had, for sure. Better for Kageyama to hurry and grab one which was still suited for playing.

«Ugh», Kageyama said, glancing at the rackets with disappointment. «Are really these ones?»

Matsui titled her head, and looked at them. No-one was in perfect condition - to use an euphemism - but at least they weren't wooden rackets from the Fifties. One of them had all the paint scratched away, and another one didn't even had chords. After some seconds of doubt, Matsui grabbed one which seemed okay, except for a totally worn-out grip tape.

«Take this», he lend it to Kageyama, «I'll replace the grip for you».

«Can you do that?»

«I did that plenty of times. It was one of my jobs. Wait a minute, gonna go to ask if someone has some».

Of course no-one did - what a useless bunch of guys, she hoped they would lose all their matches - until she found Yanagi, who thankfully had some and allowed her to take it from his locker. Yelling him a good luck - and recalling she still had lots to talk about with the guy, as soon as the matches would be ended - she reached Kageyama and began walking back again, towards the locker room. Good chances that Morimura would still be locked in that office, arguing with the computer, but she still hoped they'd be able to avoid him and the certainty to get scolded again. In five minutes she would be able to replace the grip tape, and if she was fast enough she'd probably reach the courts again before any match will start. And before Morimura, who as well had matches scheduled for that day, would be there. May the slowness of that computer would be by her side, that day.

«Wait a minute», she told Kageyama, as she entered the locker room. The place should have been empty by then - and of course it wasn't.

«You should be on the courts, right now», she said towards three guys who still weren't done changing. «Please hurry up».

As the guys glared at her and express some various exclamations of protest, she checked the names on the lockers, which of course were totally random, because setting an order would be too easy. He quickly found Yanagi's one, and took a brand new roll of grip tape from the upper shelf.

«Are you still here?», he asked the guys, echoing Morimura's words to her - and trying to imitate his tone, with little success, she suspected - before reaching Kageyama outside again.

«There were people inside?», the girl asked, as Matsui stared at the package, trying to understand how to open it.

«Mh», she ripped the plastic with her teeth.

«And it's okay you went in?», Kageyama insisted.

Matsui spat a piece of package that stuck inside her mouth. «Sorry for that». She teared the package apart. «Well, they're the ones who aren't supposed to be there. It's already late», she dropped the empty plastic on the ground and lend the tape to Kageyama, then started to dismantle the old one from the racket. «They should be on the courts right now».

«And so are you», Kageyama said.

Matsui dropped the old tape on the ground, next to the empty package. «If you want to do it yourself, I'm going right now».

«No. Sorry. Thanks», Kageyama tilted the chords with her fingernails. «You think it'll be okay?»

«Looks like», Matsui started to roll the tape around the grip. «If you want you can come back as soon as the ranking matches are ended. There should be more choice by then».

«I'll try with this one. I like the colour too. What kind of racket it is?»

«I'm not so good to recognize it with a glance», Matsui checked if there were issues with the tape. «I usually check the model on the internet and look at the stats».

«Tha's cheating».

«I'm a manager, not a racket producer». All seemed okay. She lend the racket back to Kageyama, and picked up the trash from the ground. «I'll help you to find one when you decide to buy it, if you want».

«Let me learn to play first», she sighed. «Thank you so much, Matsui-san. And good luck for the matches today. What are you supposed to do, by the way?»

«Observe. Record. Classify», Matsui replied. The holy trinity of duties Morimura was expecting from her that day. «Basically I have to act like a secretary for the results. But there are a couple of matches I really want to watch».

«The ones you were talking about with Yagyuu-san, earlier?», Kageyama asked.

Matsui nodded. «I watch their videos from middle school. It'd be fun!»

«Are you talking about the big three?», Kageyama tried a swing with her racket. «Well, maybe big two, since Yukimura-kun isn't there anymore», she shook her head. «I still can't believe that».

«Big three?»

«That's how they called them, back in middle school. Yukimura, Sanada and Yanagi. They were quite famous. All the tennis club was. Our club, instead-»

«The big three», Matsui laughed. «Sounds so professional!»

«I think it's quite lame, though».

«Yeah. All cool names are lame. It's the price of being cool».

«You aren't making sense right now». Kageyama shook her head. «Gotta go. Thanks again, Matsui-chan. See you tomorrow?»

Matsui nodded, and waved Kageyama a bye and a good luck as she turned on her feet to take her way back to the courts, not before knocking on the locker room's door again, yelling the guys to hurry up. She hastened her pace, not wanting to be scolded another time; if Morimura was already on the courts, she'd need to find a way to make him believe she had been there the whole time.

«Is this how you're checking the matches?»

Or maybe it wasn't necessary anymore.

«I was helping Kageyama-chan with the racket», she said, as she waited Morimura to reach her.

«If you want to prioritize the needs of the female tennis club, I'm sure they'll have room for you there».

«I don't think so. They already have a manager».

Morimura glared at her. Matsui sighed. «I'm really sorry, Morimura-san. I was going back to the courts right now».

Morimura opened his mouth to reply right when the three guys stormed out from the locker room, laughing and chatting - just to stop and start to run towards the courts in the exact moment they saw Morimura in front of them.

«You don't need to run», the Captain said, calmly but loud. «No chance you'll get to play today».

«I've already told them to hurry. Twice», Matsui told him. That would teach them to listen to her. Well deserved.

Morimura turned to look at her. «A really responsible thing to do, when you're late and irresponsible yourself».

 _Okay,_ Matsui told herself, _I called it._

«I'm really sorry», she repeated. «It won't happen again».

«Walk», he said, hastily. «Asou just texted me. They're about to start».

Matsui followed the Captain towards the courts. She really needed to work on her authority voice. Maybe she could learn The Morimura Glance, somehow. For first, she needed thick eyebrows, and then-

«I hope you're thinking about the match record».

«For sure!», Matsui clapped her hands. «I've already did everything. The poster is pinned up right outside the main court. All my papers are already there. I'm totally totally ready».

Morimura gave her a look that said "if you say so", but didn't reply.

Matsui really wished everything would go well. She did everything she could to set up the best organization. Drawing that damn poster had been the latest of her problems. Once Asou handed her all the sign-ups for the matches, the three of them remained locked in that office late for three days, deciding the best combinations according to how long the matches would probably last and which ones would be the most interesting to observe.

Matsui was really interested in watching the ones with Yanagi and his former teammates. She hadn't watched the videos yet, when they started to work on the matches' order, but talking with Yanagi back during that day at the Junior High - and according to the information she obtained by asking Yagyuu in class - she was already expecting great things from them. Plus, it would be the first time all the regulars would be on the court at the same time. Two weeks, and there still were some of them she haven't seen even once. She asked Morimura about it once, and he muttered something that went from "practicing elsewhere" to "kick their ugly asses" and Matsui decided to try and ask Asou instead when she would get the chance.

They would be all there today, though (or at least she hoped so), and if the first years were as good as the videos of their matches suggested, they would be able to see really interesting things that day. One over all, the only match the Captain would be playing. Matsui squinted at Morimura, as they walked to reach Asou at the bottom of the bleachers, and smiled. That was one she was dying to watch.

* * *

...

* * *

And here we are.

Thanks to everyone who's following this story, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. Sanada is never a piece of cake to write for me. And yes, that was a first squint towards girls' team, but let's focus on the boys for now. Ranking matches? Ranking matches. Have a nice time, and see you soon!

 _Fanny_

 _Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi_

 _It doesn't hurt me, you wanna feel how it feels? [Running up that hill - Kate Bush]_


	8. Chapter 8

**9\. And I discovered that my castles stand upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand**

There could be many reasons behind a defeat. They all had names, in Marui's head.

The one labeled as "Kirihara" was always the first that popped up in his mind; not only because he had seen it happen thousand of times, but also because it was one of the more common to find, in his experience. It was the result of underestimating the opponent, the easiest the to fall into. It only required a little too much self-esteem, some pettiness, a moment of distraction. Once you've fallen in there, Marui knew, it was a struggle to crawl back out.

It was another reason why tennis was a weird game. It gave you all the chances to perform a comeback; every point, every game, every set could be a new start - but once caught into your opponent's rhythm, once the match started following their momentum, you're screwed.

Kirihara had learned that lesson very early, since his very first day at Rikkai; and yet, he never really learned. As far as Marui knew, despite the many walls Kirihara had hit throughout the years, he still was fighting against the same bratty attitude that made him fall under Sanada's groundstrokes the day of their first match.

It was quite admirable too, in some twisted way.

Sanada gave his name to a category, too. He knew defeat very well; you got to do that, if you grew up playing tennis against Yukimura Seiichi every month, every week, every day. But if you took Yukimura out from the equation, everything changed. There was no-one that could stop Sanada, if it wasn't Yukimura. Not Atobe, nor Yanagi, not even Tezuka, Marui was sure - and time proved him right.

Even the strongest could lose, though. Before Kantou's finals, when Niou told Marui they would've lost if they had dragged the game until Singles 1, Marui laughed in his face. There was no way they would've come to that, he had thought (a little too much Kiriharaish, of course, but another thing Marui had learned was that being able to recognize flaws didn't make anyone immune from them), and there was no way Sanada would've lost, let alone with Tezuka out of the count.

Later, he understood it was even possible to lose a match you've already won; it was an easy step to take. When Sanada entered the court that day, his mind was completely focused on the mission of winning the championship; of healing Rikkai's pride from the previous defeats; of bringing Yukimura their throne intact (and of course, Yukimura, Yukimura, _Yukimura_ \- and who could've blamed him for that? Marui surely could not). He was focused on everything save from the match he was playing.

Before the finals started, Marui wouldn't have bet a single yen on Sanada's loss. After the match, he couldn't have seen things going differently. When you're focused a step ahead than where you should be, you're doomed from the beginning. There weren't Marui's words, of course, but Yanagi's. As they always were.

Yanagi has a defeat linked to his name, too. And it was quite ironic that the Master of sense and rationality was the one who showed how being too emotionally and personally involved in a match prevented you to sort out things clearly. Having a rival, having someone to challenge could be helpful as a motivation to train hard, to train better, Yanagi had admitted later, but this absolutely needed to be left out of the courts as soon as the match begins. Not that the Master didn't know that since the beginning; but again, knowing a thing and avoiding it seldom was the same thing.

The only one besides Yanagi who openly admitted and recognized the reasons behind his signature defeat had been Niou. It was like digging your own grave; a bet with the devil, you could also call it. Niou's strategy to psychologically pushing on your opponent until they lost all the will to play could be perfectly effective nine times out of ten; but when it didn't work, you remained weaponless, in front of an opponent whose will to win was stronger than ever. An all out risk that fitted Niou perfectly; there was nothing as safe play in the trickster's strategies.

There was also a defeat who owed its name to Yukimura, even if Marui still found it strange enough after all these months. It wasn't a defeat worth taking the blame for; for one match, for one single match, Yukimura's will and need to play overcame his awareness that he wasn't able to give everything he could. He simply wasn't ready to play again, even if he wanted to. A defeat, in a case like that, could have even been natural, if it wasn't about Yukimura. There was nothing natural in Yukimura losing, or at least it was like that until last summer.

Marui didn't consider Yukimura's recent loss as a one who needed a category of its own. It was too similar- no, it was exactly a defeat which has Niou's name written on it. Yukimura tried to neutralize his opponent, failed, and fell. Maybe it was that that pushed Niou to challenge Morimura after Yukimura's loss. Marui shook his head; he could clearly hear the Trickster's sarcastic laugh in his head.

Yagyuu didn't have a defeat with his name yet; maybe one due to inexperience on court, but hadn't anyone experienced it, when they started playing? And what about Jackal- Jackal didn't lose unless he was overpowered by his opponent; it only happened when his opponent was faster, stronger, more skilled than him. There were no mental tricks or distractions that worked against him.

The worst one in Marui's list, nevertheless, had his own name. He smiled, bitterly. He surely wasn't the only one who experienced that, it probably was the most common than anyone else, and also the most difficult to put up with.

He had already come up with a definition to put into the dictionaries.

" _A defeat that occurs when the player is unable to score a single point, not mentioning winning the match"._

Marui rubbed his eyes, as his mind came back to the match that had just ended.

They avoided being shamefully bageled only thanks to Jackal's service games, and only thanks to his always trustworthy consistency in return shots. If Marui hadn't been on court, there wouldn't have been any difference - no, maybe Jackal would've been able to score even more points without him to hamper him.

It wasn't a sensation Marui had never known before; but having already felt like shit once didn't make it easier when it happened again. If anything, it made it harder. It was like walking for miles in a dark maze, and eventually seeing the light of the exit in front of you, only to discovered you've walked in circles all the time and you returned in the same cage you've escaped from. It was shit. He wanted to puke.

Marui hid his face into his hands, trying to shade it from light.

Helped by his lack of sight, he could hear the noises of many people gathering on the bleachers, as some match was about to begin on center court. It had been too long since the last time he could hid into the crowd; back in middle school he always found someone who called him out, who asked him questions, who simply spoke to him. Now in high school, he was surrounded by strangers, as all his former teammates were probably on the courts playing their matches or practicing or whatever. It was safe to be there; it was relaxing to be ignored.

His mind kept coming back to the match; he couldn't help it. It kept showing him all the stupid mistakes he made, all the easy balls he missed, all the chances he threw away. He wanted to say he had only been uncaring, or that if he had played seriously, things would've gone differently. Instead, it was like being twelve again. When he first joined the tennis club at Rikkai, in junior high, Marui had quickly learned that he had a long road ahead before being able to even dream of a real match. He struggled to find his spot, he practiced until he felt his soul burn under his fingers, until the tennis court stopped to be a cage for chickens before the slaughter and began to be a real playground.

Playing tennis wasn't fun; no-one grew in the Rikkai's cage would have never said that. Playing and winning was fun. Losing simply sucked, no matter how good the match had been.

And it had been an awful match. All the practice he had had through the years, all the efforts he had put into it, all the patches and tears were meant for never feeling like that again. To never feel like his hands were a useless appendix, and his legs clumsy as he was walking on ice, and his brain just a puddle of melted corn-flakes. And that was how he felt today. All his efforts, and now he was back at the starting point. Useless. Clumsy. _Loser._

Marui opened his eyes. The bleachers were almost full. Few people wear the tennis uniform; Marui could recognize a couple of guys with the basketball team suit, and someone from the volleyball team in the front row. The most of the people, however, were wearing simple school uniforms, and they were chatting and eating snacks as the waited some game to begin.

He had never seen so many people as the audience of a practice match, not even in middle school. Not after they won their first title, not for all the matches they had with Hyoutei, not for Yukimura's first practice after the recovery.

He wondered if they were all there for Morimura's match; that would've made sense. That also meant that Niou was ready to play too; Marui had sworn him he would've come to see him lose, but not even that outlook could brighten his mood at that moment.

Well, it didn't really matter, Marui thought, as he saw Niou Masaharu climbing the stairs to stop right in front of him. He said nothing, looking down at Marui's, his eyebrows arched in a mute question.

"Stop stalking me. It starts to be creepy", Marui said.

The Trickster hinted a smile. "Just checking that you don't throw yourself down the bleachers".

"You-", Marui began, "I-", he shook his head. "God, this is so dumb coming from you".

"You haven't seen your face as you were leaving the court", Niou added, as he sat down too.

"Well, thanks, ain't fucking mirrors around the courts", Marui said. "Wait, what do you mean? What was wrong with my face? Why were you there?"

Niou didn't reply. Marui didn't want to talk about the match either, nor about his face or anything that lame. He knew how he felt as he was leaving the courts, ignoring all Jackal's calls, leaving his bag and his racket behind. He just didn't want to kneel down and puke in the middle of the court; he needed to walk away. He needed to breathe. He needed to be alone.

"Who's playing here?", he asked. The court was still empty, but some people were moving to check the sidelines and the net.

"You'll get to see someone blown off today", The trickster replied. He pointed at the courts. "Seems like someone wants to challenge for the vice-captain's supremacy".

"Sanada?"

"Him".

"Against the vice-captain"

"Him".

Marui remembered the guy. Really tall. Wide shoulders. Looked like the kind one, but didn't know if he really was. Probably wasn't, on tennis courts.

"Do you think Sanada will be blown off?", he asked Niou, who shrugged.

"Probably. I wouldn't bet money on him".

Marui wouldn't as well. If he should've done a prevision, he would've bet on the other guy too. He never saw him playing, but well- two years older, vice-captain, three meters tall: the odds weren't in Sanada's favour.

It was the first match he would see the former vice-Captain play after his win against Tezuka - the first that wasn't an inter-club match against Kirihara, at least. Well, they didn't count that much as matches, didn't they? Marui couldn't tell if his win at the Nationals happened because he was only focusing in beating his opponent or despite the fact he still had something personal going on against Tezuka (Yanagi's trademark loss avoided).

Did it still have something personal that day? As far as he knew, Sanada had had no strife with the vice-captain, but it couldn't exclude that the failure of Yukimura's challenge had his weight behind his decision. He could've asked Sanada, but he doubted he would have received an answer, and in the end, he didn't even care that much.

He only knew there were more signs of Sanada's loss than towards his win; or maybe he told himself that just to feel a little better. He didn't work in any case.

"Well", Niou said, "seems that someone else's interested in Sanada fight for supremacy".

Marui narrowed his brows. "What".

Niou pointed up with his chin; following the direction, Marui could finally see who was enough interested in Sanada's match to come back to the last place Marui would've imagined to see him.

"Maybe he's here to come back", Niou said, as Yukimura sat down beside Yanagi.

"Mh", Marui said, not finding anything to say.

"Wanna ask him directly?", Niou stood up and jumped over two pair of legs - belonging to tennis club members - to reach the stairs, without waiting for Marui's answers.

"Wait!", Marui stood up too and looked for his bag, before remembering he hadn't picked it up from the courts. He ran after Niou; he didn't want to ask questions to his former captain, but if Niou was bold enough to ask them in his place (he always was, when he wanted to know something), he was quite curious to hear the answers.

* * *

The view of tennis courts was always familiar to Yukimura Seiichi, maybe more than his own house, more than his own bedroom. His mother called it obsession. His father called it attitude. Yukimura didn't call it, he didn't care; he only knew that among the things he had in his life, playing tennis would've been the only one that would've torn him apart if he was forced to give it up.

Sometimes he wondered how stupid it could look, from an external gaze. It was nothing more than hitting a ball with a stick and made it fall inside some white lines. But that external gaze would've ignored the feeling of controlling a match; the thrill of finding a hole in your opponent's defense; the heart pounding like a drum after saving a point everyone, included yourself, took for lost.

Yukimura's gaze ended up ignoring it, too. He didn't have to, anymore. He didn't have to save difficult points; no-one was capable of pushing him to that. He didn't have to build up games, when his serves and returns were enough to grant him every game. He didn't need to build up strategies against stronger opponents, after he learned how to shut them up without playing at all. That was his tennis; that became his tennis. He told that to Morimura, he really believed that; he wanted him to know how his tennis worked, how far he had pushed it. He had lost the power battle against the captain, but that didn't mean his message couldn't be delivered by another way.

And it had been. Delivered, received, read and understood. When Morimura kicked him out the club, Yukimura was somehow proud of himself. That was his tennis; Morimura didn't understand it, and sent him away. It was his loss, not Yukimura's. But then-

Yukimura rubbed his eyes, as he reached those courts that were both familiar and unfamiliar. He looked at them, but he saw his tennis courts, the ones from junior high, the one in which Kirihara was surely practicing with his new team, as a captain.

He came back there out of instinct, but in the end, he found answers he didn't even look for.

He had played against Kirihara plenty of times. The younger guy kept challenging him, Sanada and Yanagi, careless of the never changing result, every time with new energy, with a renewed will to beat them- and every time he ended up crushed on the floor, crying or screaming or just smashing his racquet on the ground. But one, two days later, he would've come back; he always did, after learning a new technique, or after fixing a little weakness, everything made him believe that he could have got a chance. His discouragement never lasted long. Sanada called him a simple minded, and Yukimura silently agreed with him. Yanagi didn't; or better, he did, but he clearly said that his simple mind would've been the thing that will allow Kirihara to surpass every one of them, one day. Sanada had frowned, and Yukimura had laughed - even if he was sure that Yanagi truly believed of what he was saying, and he knew the Master enough to understand that seldom he was wrong - and they never really touched the issue anymore.

Now Yukimura wanted to do that.

"This time, it's me who knew where to find you".

Yanagi turned back, and arched his eyebrows. "Well", he tilted his head. "I can say I'm surprised".

"This is an accomplishment I should put in my curriculum", Yukimura replied, as he took a seat next to him, on the bleachers. He had thought that he would've stood out, being the only one with a school uniform between people in sweatpants, but apparently he wasn't the only one who came to watch the match from outside the club. This Asou who was going to play should be pretty popular - he had lots of reasons to doubt all those people were there to watch Sanada.

"Surprising me it's easier than you would think", Yanagi said, looking back towards the courts. "You spoke to Genichirou this morning", he went straight to the point, as expected from him.

"So you guessed that", Yukimura replied. It wasn't that easy to surprise him, no matter what Yanagi himself would say about the matter.

"Genichirou told me", the other smiled, like he was admitting a cheat. "He also told me he wasn't sure of what you wanted to obtain from that conversation".

"I didn't talk to him to obtain something", Yukimura frowned by that choice of words. They made him look like one who looked for conversation only when he needed to know or get something in reward.

"This is what I told him", Yanagi said. "Though I don't think Genichirou meant that in a negative way".

As always, he was like he could read his thoughts. "Is there a positive way?"

"He didn't understand what you want to do from now on".

He's not the only one, Yukimura thought, even if talking to Sanada had maybe sorted up his issues, even if only a little.

"I didn't tell him that", he said.

Yanagi nodded, and didn't insist.

No-one of the players was yet in sight. Yukimura had had a glance of Sanada's cap on the sidelines, when he come there, but he didn't see his opponent anywhere. He thought he had also seen Morimura near the fence, but he was too far for Yukimura to be sure it was him. In any case, there was nothing the Captain could've said to him; as far as Yukimura knew, there wasn't a rule that excluded former members from attending the ranking match as audience.

He didn't know if Morimura had still to play or not. He had looked for Sanada's name, certain - or at least, hoping - he would've found Yanagi there, watching the match. He didn't check any other one. He knew that Niou was gonna challenge the Captain, but he wasn't sure he wanted to watch that, or know how it went, or whatever concerning that match. He wasn't as childish to wish Niou to lose - or at least he wanted to think that. But the idea of the Trickster succeeding where he had so miserably failed still made him uncomfortable.

The main court was bigger than the one they had in middle school, Yukimura recorded, but also older. The sidelines needed to be repainted, and the net was grayish for the long use.

"What are your predictions?", he asked Yanagi.

There were other things he wanted to ask him, but he didn't feel ready to hear the answers yet.

Yanagi stretched his back. He was one of the few who were wearing the uniform's jacket, the zip closed to the neck. Yukimura was surprised he wasn't dying. He had left his school jacket in the classroom, and even with only his shirt on, he still felt the spring sun burning his back through the fabric.

"I can't formulate any accurate one", he replied. "I don't have enough data-"

"What can you say with the data you have?", Yukimura cut it short.

Yanagi hesitated; he scratched his chin, thoughtful. Few things he disliked more than formulate predictions with poor data in his hands.

"With the little information I have, you know, the hypothesis I can formulate will be-"

"Inaccurate. I know. Just tell me", Yukimura resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He liked Yanagi's lack of arrogance when he wasn't sure of his affirmations. Nevertheless, that circle of doom of premises could go ahead for hours if Yukimura let him go on with that.

Yanagi sighed, probably facing ahead the idea of - incredible and unbelievable - make a _guess._

"According to the little data I could gather, I'd say I would bet", he said the word like it was a curse, "on Asou".

Yukimura wasn't surprised. "Your reasons?", he asked.

"I don't have certain data-"

"I got it, Renji", Yukimura hissed.

"-but I have words", Yanagi glared at him. "And words could be useful as data itself. Though alone, sadly, they couldn't be used as a precise comparative measurement".

"Which kind of words?"

"Rumors, for the best". Someone moved on the courts and caught their attention, but it was only a random guy who chased away a seagull that landed on the net.

"Rumors about Asou's power", Yanagi reprised. "A guy from second year told me Asou's first serve could rip my arm off. A third year said that he wouldn't play him because he didn't want to die". He turned to look at Yukimura. "Now, these are indubitable exaggerations-"

"I' would've never guessed that".

"-but they gave a general idea of what kind of player he is".

Yukimura nodded. "A powerful hitter. He looks like that".

"That would mean-", Yanagi tilted his head, hinting Yukimura to finish the sentence.

"That he's the same player as Sanada", Yukimura easily understood that.

"It's a battle of power", Yanagi agreed. "And their physical conditions are not favourable to Genichirou".

Yukimura thought it over. Having more power didn't _per-se_ guarantee any victory. A good counter-puncher on the other side of the net could easily convert the power of the rallies at his advantage, and gain the momentum with return shots. Jackal was the master of that; he had good attack skills too, but generally speaking his defense and counter-shots usually were enough to trail his opponent into errors or to close out points with well-placed returns and counter-winners.

Sanada, however, wasn't Jackal; he wasn't even close to the defense's specialist style of play. Sanada was a pure attacker; from every angle, every position, he had got a set of moves he could use to move forward and play aggressively for points. No wonder almost all of his techniques were meant to attack; even the defensive ones, like the one he named the "Mountain", had an aggressive nature.

"But?", he looked at Yanagi.

"But?", the Master repeated, looking at Yukimura for explanations.

"It's not favorable to him, but he could turn the match by his side. Am I right?"

Yanagi smiled. "Everybody can", he said. "Furthermore, as I said, I don't have enough data for this match. If we talking about probabilities, we're still stuck to 50/50. At least until the match begins; when I'll watch at least a game, I'll be able to tell you more".

"I see".

"But you didn't want to talk about that".

Yukimura lifted his gaze; then he shook his head, and smiled. It was time to stop being surprised by Yanagi's mind reading skills.

"No, I didn't".

"You're pinching your wrist skin", Yanagi explained. Yukimura looked at his hand; the skin of his wrist was red; he didn't even realize he was doing that. "You always do that, when there's something that upsets you".

"Have I always do that?", Yukimura had never realized. Now that he knew what he was doing, his wrist started to weakly burn.

Yanagi shook his head. "No. You started to do that in these last weeks. You'd be surprised by the number of illogical habits we develop through the years, sometimes losing them without realizing we have ever developed them at all".

"I should start a school project about that. I'll take that in mind for the next science class".

"I think it would be more suited for social studies, if you want a suggestion".

"I wasn't serious, Renji".

"Oh", the Master nodded. "I could do that, then, if you're not interested".

Yukimura snorted, but couldn't avoid a smile.

"So, what's the point?", Yanagi reprised. "You came to these courts again. I must confess I wasn't expecting that yet. Not that soon".

"Yet?"

Yanagi looked at him as he had just told him a lame joke. "Whoever had known you even a little would've easily guessed that you would come back".

Yukimura frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Yanagi hesitated, as he was carefully choosing the words to use. "I mean that tennis would've called you back. It was just a matter of time".

Yukimura tilted his head. "This is not the only place where I could play tennis, if I wanted".

"True", the Master replied. "But the best way to get to Junior Championships is through a school's team, isn't it?"

It was. Yukimura had already thought about his options, right while walking out of the court for that last time, after Morimura had kicked him out. He could've joined a private club instead. He could've looked for a sponsor, for tournaments to play. But it would've meant money. Money that his parents had, to be fair, but would they be disposable to spend them while they were already made him attending a sport-elite school, with one of the best tennis clubs nationwide? Yukimura doubted so, and couldn't blame them for that.

The Junior Championships, held in late autumn, was the best showdown place for players who seek for a pro career. And Yukimura was. But the competitors were almost all selected from the previous Inter-High team tournaments, and he would happen to be able to attend the one which finished runner-up the previous year, nothing to brag about.

"There are other ways", Yukimura eventually said.

"There are", Yanagi confirmed. "But you know how higher is their uncertainty. You need to be talented", he smiled, "but you also need to be lucky. And luck is not a parameter. It's always a variable, with an unknown weight".

Yukimura frowned. He knew Yanagi was right. But-

"You don't need luck", he said, "if the talent is enough".

"Yes and no", the Master replied. Something seemed to start moving, down on the court. A guy with a white cap sat on the referee's seat. "Even if you have enough talent, you still need to make the right choices. And there's no way anyone could understand all the consequences of the choices they make, and of the ones they don't make. We can only elaborate hypothesis, and calculate probabilities". He smiled. "That said, the best way to get where you want to is here". He pointed his chin towards the court. "And I'm sure you're here today because you know that too".

"Yes and no", Yukimura said, mocking Yanagi's tone.

The Master nodded. "You're ready to spit it out", he said, in a very less polished choice of words.

Yukimura grinned. Yes, he probably was. "You once told me- told us", he corrected, "that Akaya would eventually surpass all three of us, one day".

Yanagi nodded. He didn't ask why he was bringing that back, after all that time, or why he was asking that kind of question right now. If he was surprised, he hid it very well. Yukimura doubted it; it was indeed complicated to surprise Yanagi.

"You still think that?", he asked.

"I do".

That was the answer Yukimura expected but not, he realized, the one he wanted to hear. "Can I ask why?"

He had defeated Kirihara only a few days before. Yanagi was there; he had watched the whole match, until it lasted, at least. Yukimura didn't go there to crush Kirihara one more time; but he did it. And it made him feel better. Being in total control of the match made him feel better. Being the strongest, made him feel better. Being at the top, where no-one could challenge him, made him feel better. For as much pathetic it was, winning against Kirihara - a player he knew too well, for having faced him a millionth times before - after he had lost so badly to Morimura only a few days before, made him feel better. But he couldn't' help it; he was who he was. Ha didn't feel good but in victory.

"Because he's hungry", Yanagi said. "And we're not anymore".

Yukimura startled. Curious, but not unexpected, from Yanagi to use _we_ , to include himself too in the equation. I'm aware of the issue, it said, but I'm stuck into it as well.

"Hungry- of what?", Yukimura asked, on the alert, foreshadowing the possible outcomes of that conversation.

"Winning", Yanagi replied, confirming his worst concerns.

Yukimura glared at him. "You may want to explain", he said, coldly.

The Master didn't seem affected by the turn the tone of the conversation took. _"People become stronger in measure equal of their knowledge of defeat",_ he tilted his head. "Did I quote right?"

Yukimura scowled. He remembered that; but he didn't say that to him. "That's my line". It was something he told to Sanada, too many years before- or did it seem to him, that so much time had passed? It was before his disease, maybe before their first tournament- or after? Yukimura couldn't clearly recall.

"I know that", Yanagi smiled. "And what is the last time a defeat made you stronger?"

Yukimura opened his mouth to reply. He looked up, as Yanagi politely glanced at him, without provocation, just like he was pointing out something obvious. Then the Master lifted his eyes, and cracked a smile towards something behind Yukimura's shoulders.

Someone grabbed Yukimura's arm. He turned around-

"Long time no see", Niou said.

Yukimura frowned. "We literally met in the hallway at lunchtime". He had wanted to ask the Trickster something about his match, back then, but he changed his mind. He peaked towards Yanagi, as Marui climbed the stairs behind Niou and reached them as well. Seemed they'd need to postpone their conversation for now; it wasn't something he really wanted to talk about in the presence of anyone else, being them his own teammates; especially in front of his own teammates.

* * *

Yukimura greeted them with a smile - quite forced, to be fair, probably because of whatever conversation they've interrupted more than anything else - and Marui suddenly felt very dumb to have avoided him like a plague-infected for the last week. Not that they ever used to talk much outside the club even before that, but still- they'd been teammates. Guess that it wasn't a true statement in the end.

"Are you okay, Bunta?", Yanagi asked, in a tone that said "I saw your match" and "I know how you feel", so typical of him. Marui didn't want to talk about that; he didn't want Yanagi to know how he felt.

He was there to meet Yukimura, to say hello, to figure out if he had already placed a flower bomb into Morimura's locker. Usual stuff.

He shrugged and didn't reply, hoping this was enough to make Yanagi drop the issue once for all. Luckily, he was known to be smart enough to read the signs.

Yukimura wasn't smiling anymore, and Marui caught him side-eyeing Niou with suspicion, as the Trickster took a seat at Yanagi's side. Marui sat beside his former captain.

"I would've thought you wanted to watch Yagyuu's match", Yanagi told Niou. "He should be playing now, on court 3".

Niou didn't reply.

"Who's he playing?", Yukimura asked instead.

"He challenged", Yanagi hesitated, as he probably scrolled through his mental notes, "Hongo Yasuaki. A quite interesting choice, if you ask me. As far as I know, his style is quite similar to Niou's, or at least it recalls it. I suggest he had developed some kind of rivalry; he came to me to ask for the information I gathered, before making his choice", he added, as an explanation.

Niou didn't look impressed. "I thought he had quit", he said.

In fact, he did, Marui thought. Yagyuu had made it quite clear, since their loss in National finals, that he wasn't interested in going ahead with tennis; funny enough, since he was the only one in their team that had always been undefeated in their final year of Junior High. He had quit, he had returned, and now he was playing in the ranking matches. Marui tried to recall who that Hongo was.

"It's the one who was with the tall guy the first day?", he asked Yanagi. "Quite short, rooster mohawk?"

Niou grinned. "Quite short, he said".

Marui showed him a middle finger, then he made it double as a reinforcement.

Yanagi smiled. "Yes, he fits with your description. If you want to know, my data has him as 169 cm tall".

Marui ignored it. "And how's his style close to this fucker's?"

Like they needed another one who liked to suck out the player's souls during matches. Thinking it twice, having them on their team was good indeed. It was having them on the other side of the net that was a huge damn problem.

Yanagi scratched his chin. The person concerned couldn't care less.

"First, I'm talking by secondhand information. I wanted to watch him playing today, but the schedule was too crowded. According to what I've heard, however, he has a strongly aggressive style, which tends to focus on his opponent's weak points. He kept hitting on their most uncomfortable positions, to both getting easy points and destroy the player's willpower", the Master smiled. "Of course, his talent lies in figuring out where the weaknesses lay. A guy I talked with defined him as the player with the strongest killer instinct he had ever met".

Marui scowled. "That sounds trash enough".

"Of course, I need to verify this with my own eyes. A club member from the third year is gonna record his matches from today. He agreed to provide me a copy of the video".

"Did he agree, or did you blackmail him?", Yukimura asked.

"I demanded it gently".

"If you say so", Yukimura jolted, then turned towards the court. "Look. They're starting".

About time. Sanada and Asou were taking their places on opposite sides of the net, exchanging some light shots to warm up. Sanada was quite tall, but Asou looked like he was at least ten centimeters taller than him, or more, and he looked even taller as he served and smashed the ball, like he could cover the entire baseline without moving for more than few steps. A couple of second years run around the court chasing balls; he and Jackal hadn't had ball-boys for their match; at least, he thought, they weren't forced to be ones for the moment.

As they approached the net to decide serving and courts, Sanada almost looked like a kid next to him, his grumpy, old man-ish face hidden by the shade of his cap.

"And how is he?", Marui asked. "I guess he's an hard-hitter. Just sayin'", with that kind of swimmer-like shoulders, he couldn't really be a volley specialist, or crap.

"As I was telling Seiichi earlier, this will probably look like a battle between quite similar players, as much as I could understand", Yanagi said, without lifting his gaze from the courts. He probably wouldn't be missing a single shot from that match. Down there, Sanada and Asou rolled the racket to draw the serve. Sanada reached the half court on the left, and took the receiving position on the baseline. The referee announced the beginning of the match, as Asou was preparing to serve. The volume of the chatting on the bleachers immediately lowered.

Asou served and damn, that was a first serve. Sanada could touch it, but that was all- unable to control the ball, he sent his return shot to land on the bleachers. An exclamation of pain from the front row said he'd made a bingo.

"Ouch. That was bad", someone said behind their shoulders.

Marui didn't think it was bad; more than that, he was impressed Sanada could see that serve coming, letting out returning it. That didn't make him feel better about himself.

Asou served again, and this time, his first serve ended in the net. His second serve gave Sanada a chance; it wasn't weak, but it allowed the younger player to step-in, and try to gain control of the rally.

"This is it", Yanagi muttered through his teeth. Marui could guess what he was talking about. That quickly became a battle of power, a battle that, he immediately realized, Sanada couldn't handle. It was Asou who put pressure; the younger player was forced to an all-court defense. An insanely fast backhand down the line from Asou put it to an end. 30-love.

It was clear that Sanada was the disadvantaged one; Asou won another point with a powerful first serve, and a winner on the baseline right after gave him the first game, not only without dropping a single point, but without giving Sanada any chance to fight back. They quickly changed courts, as the referee announced the score.

There was a way out; Marui peeked towards Yanagi.

"He should use the Mountain", he heard Yukimura saying out loud, giving voice to Marui's same thoughts. He had seen Sanada using that technique more than once - at different levels of skill, to be fair - but the most memorable time remained the match against Atobe, last year just before the Nationals. Yukimura had interrupted their match that time, without giving an explanation, while Sanada was winning, his defense insurmountable just like the mountain it took the name from. Marui didn't know the reasons, but that Atobe didn't have the face of one who was losing, and Yukimura probably foresaw more than Marui did. It was indeed Sanada's best technique against powerful attackers; but not the only one.

It was Sanada's turn to serve. His power wasn't as strong as Asou's, but still, Marui could tell that he had improved since the last time he had seen him play in a serious match, whether it had been a practice one or an official one. But again, Marui had probably neglected practice too much during the months after the Nationals, but the former vice-captain was surely among the ones who didn't. Even with all the year-end tests and the admission exams approaching, Sanada would've surely found some time to dedicate to daily practice. He wondered if he slept enough at night, or even if he slept at all.

He somehow managed to hold his serve, to level off to 1-all; not without sacrificing two points - one to an unreachable return winner by Asou, and one to a shot that landed slightly behind the baseline - and always hitting his first serve in. Sanada had always been known for his first serve, which held both power and great accuracy. The question was; would that be enough?

Asou once again proved himself unplayable on his service game. Sanada scored a point after a double-fault from the vice-captain, but aside from that, he couldn't even enter the game. And now it was his turn to serve again.

"Is he overwhelmed?", he heard Yukimura ask.

"Not yet", Yanagi answered.

"Would that make you feel better?"

Marui froze, and peeped side-eyed towards Yukimura. The former captain turned slowly to look at Niou.

"Do you think it would?", he asked, flatly.

The Trickster tilted his head. "It's not promising, answering a question with another question".

"I am genuinely curious".

"So I am".

Yukimura raised his eyebrows, and Marui related to that. It was easier to find Sanada skipping practice to spend all his money at the arcade than Niou "genuinely curious" about anything.

Marui glanced at Yanagi, but the Master was still staring at the court, apparently unaware of the words exchanged from his sides. But if there were someone able to focus on multiple things at once, that was Yanagi.

"It wouldn't", Yukimura eventually said.

Niou didn't blink. "Are you sure about that?"

"Are you asking a question because you want an answer, or you are just expecting me to say what you want to hear?"

"I'm expecting honest answers", Niou said. Marui didn't even see the court anymore; he heard the referee shouting out a score, but didn't listen to it. He waited for Yukimura to speak again.

"I'd like to watch the match", he eventually said.

"Sure you do", Niou said, in a quite eloquent tone.

"Tell me, Niou", Yukimura cut it short, "what do you want me to say? That I'm here just to see Sanada lose, as I did?"

Niou hesitated, and for a moment Marui really thought that he would've said, Yes, that's what I mean.

"Not exactly", Niou said instead. "I don't think you're here for that. But I think it would make you feel better".

And that was it. Yukimura took his time to reply to that, and Marui used that to take a glance at the court.

Sanada didn't seem in a better situation than before. An insanely fast swing told Marui he was playing all his cards. Asou hit back Sanada's Wind with no showing struggle, placing a return forehand down the line, impossible to reach.

"Game, Asou. Asou leads 4 games to 1".

Well, Marui thought, that had been quick.

"Maybe it would", Yukimura finally said, as Sanada was preparing to serve to start the following game. "But I don't want him to lose, and I don't wish him defeat. But yes", he nodded, with a bitter smile. "I guess it would give me some kind of relief, even if I'm not proud of that. Does this answer satisfy you?"

Niou simply nodded. "Well", Yukimura continued, "guess I would've got some relief by watching you destroyed by Morimura, too. Maybe even more".

Niou grinned, but didn't look amused.

"How did you do, by the way?", Yukimura asked. "I think I wanna know, now".

"How do you think I did?", the Trickster hit back.

"Who's now answering questions with more questions?"

Niou kept grinning, that kind of grin that avoided proper answers, instead of anticipating them. Niou must've already played his match, if he was there, chillin' on the bleachers. Marui didn't even ask him anything; he wasn't that enthusiast to go and watch his match, not after that absolute mess that had been his own one. Nevertheless, he was quite curious about the result, but probably both him and Yukimura would have more chances to figure it out by going and checking the damn table, rather than waiting for any kind of answers directly from him.

"You may want to watch the match, right now", Yanagi stepped in.

Marui drew his attention back onto the court. Sanada served on the center, so close to a fault, Marui was surprised to not hear it called. The former vice-captain took full control of a rally for the first time in the match, at least as far as Marui had watched.

"Genichirou has decided to play all his cards".

He had indeed. Sanada saved two break points hitting that insane Lightning shot he used against Tezuka. Not even Asou could reach it or hit it back; its effectiveness, though, was limited. Sanada had been able to use it multiple times at the Nationals only due to the fact that he was facing an opponent under an equal physical strain; this wasn't the case against Asou.

Sanada eventually held, but again, he couldn't score a single point while Asou was on serve. Being him down a break, he needed to take it back if he didn't want to lose the match. That didn't seem likely to happen.

Down 5-2, Sanada was serving to stay in the match. Everyone had stopped to argue, and was paying close attention to what was happening down there. Even the chatting around them was quieter.

Sanada served, and immediately rushed to attack. He was pushing with all he had, without holding back. He smashed balls like rocks, alternated volleys with slices and groundstrokes, made Asou run all around the court.

It wasn't enough against the vice-captain far better defense. Helped by his height and his long arms, he could reach every corner of the court in which Sanada hit, looking like he could literally be anywhere at anytime. He remembered Marui of Jackal, but better; he needed to admit that.

There was little Sanada could do, safe from hitting with all his strength; too much strength: his forehand landed behind the line on the first match point, gifting a quite short match to Asou with a 6-2 scoreline.

"I could not see a different ending", Yanagi commented, as the players reached the net for the handshake. "Asou surely had proved himself up to the rumours about him".

"What kind of rumours?", Marui asked. "'He could rip your arm off with his forehand'"?

Yanagi smiled. "Sort of".

"Well", Yukimura stood up, "guess it's time to go".

Marui stood up as well. He was calm enough now, he should go and look for his stuff- and for Jackal. There was indeed something they needed to discuss; there was something he would need to tell him.

"You may want to watch the next match", Yanagi said.

Both Yukimura and Marui turned towards him.

"Who?", Yukimura asked.

Yanagi bent his head to his right, where Niou was sitting- where Niou _had been_ sitting. Marui searched the crowd for his silver head, and finally spotted him as he took up his racket and entered the court.

"Son of a bitch", Marui muttered. So he had yet to play. Could he once in his life not treating every shit like a fuckin' mystery quest-

"So, you think you gonna stay?", Yanagi asked Yukimura. The former captain hesitated, glancing at the court, then back at his teammates. "Yes", he sat back down. "Yes, I do".

Marui glanced at the court, as Morimura and Niou took their places for the warming-up. Since he was already there, he was going to stay too.

* * *

...

* * *

Info corner.

I completely made up the intra-school competition, stealing a little from the real information I could gather, a little Tenipuri itself, a little from high school competitions from other sports anime, and a little from Davis Cup and ATP World Tour. I couldn't find any exact information about the real competition on the net, so I made it up and bye.

Being "bageled" means losing a set 6-0 - usually called a "bagel" because the 0 is the same shape of a bagel. Dunno. Tennis may be dumb.

Akaya is a cute potato.

End of info corner.

Thanks to everyone who's following this story, I'm beyond grateful for that. Thanks for the reviewers too, I always love to hear what you think about this story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well, and sorry for the late update. I'll try to upload the next one sooner.

See you soon with Niou vs Morimura! (Send help).

Lots of love,

Fanny.

 _Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi_

 _And I discovered that my castles stand upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand (Coldplay - Viva la Vida)_


	9. Chapter 9

**9\. Those colors are made, they're changing the game.**

"Tell me. What was that again?"

Sanada searched the guy's face, looking for some sign of mocking, of irony, but finding none.

"It's called 'Lighting'", he explained.

"Well", Asou replied, "it's surely up to its name". He smiled.

Sanada had just found a place to watch the match from, in the front row, when the older player had reached him, a Rikkai-printed towel still on his shoulders, offering him a energy drink. Sanada reluctantly accepted it - he preferred totally different kinds of vitamin beverages, but some extra energy wouldn't be bad after that match.

It hadn't been a long match, even for the standards of a single-setter, but it had been a drain of energy since the beginning. It probably lasted no more than thirty minutes, but it had been like playing for three full hours. It took 120% of Sanada's strength to counter Asou's powerful shots, and it took him even more strength to be able to close out points with his serve.

He triplicated all his efforts after losing that early break, but in the end, it hadn't been nearly enough to set up some kind of threat while Asou was on serve. He could do nothing against the overwhelming power of the vice-captain, no matter what he tried.

His "Mountain" helped him to close out points on rallies - though sometimes he struggled just to keep the ball in play, and his arm burned from the strain of hitting such powerful shots- but, while Asou was on serve, there was little he could do against him. Sanada knew how brute force could defy every technique, every strategy, if it wasn't perfect enough. Knowing that, it was why he added power to his own technique, creating shots like "Fire" and "Lighting", who carried at the same time skill, precision, and force. As for that day, he realized he still needed something more; a lot more.

He glanced at Asou from under his hat's peak. From what he had been able to see during their match, the guy showed very little technique aside from power. His shots were strong and precise, and his physical condition made easy for him to control the racket, but for the rest- his shots were flat. He barely used spin. His footwork was also poor; and that was all Sanada had been able to observe while the guy was throwing him grenades from the other side of the net. If he could be able to observe him from the bleachers, he could've had a better idea of his actual skills.

He needed to discuss it with Yanagi anyway. He had never been eager to discuss his own defeats, but he knew by experience that hearing Yanagi's point of view and advice never came out to be useless; quite the contrary, instead.

"He was your teammate, right?", Asou asked, crumpling the empty bottle he still had in hand. "Niou Masaharu".

Sanada nodded. Niou and Morimura approached the net to decide service turns. He wondered how much Morimura and the other regulars knew about them, and more than that, if they ever felt they needed to know. If he was in their shoes, would he care? Looking from the results they managed to obtain in their ranking matches so far, probably not so much. Niou could become the one who changed that, but Sanada doubted it. There was something so unnatural in watching Niou succeed where Yukimura had failed, but somehow Sanada couldn't exclude that either. If there was someone who could do such thing, it was the Trickster.

The game began, and a religious silence fell upon the crowd. Sanada wondered how many of them were there to watch Morimura crushing another cheeky first year, and how many were actually cheering for Niou. Sanada knew that people loved when underdogs came up from nowhere to dethrone the rightful king; safe that it seldom happened in real life, outside children's tales. He and Yukimura made it happen, though; maybe it had been a children's tale, back then.

Morimura won the toss, and chose to serve.

He reached the baseline, checking the court before starting. His first serve ended in the net. He took a deep breath, and hit a second serve right on the centre line. Niou didn't read it properly, and came at the ball a little bit late, unable to hit but a defense lob, which was a clear gift to Morimura's forehand. The Captain's winner raised a howl from the crowd when it crashed into Niou's racket; an equal strong forehand from the trickster painted the tramline, too far from Morimura to reach, and gave Niou the first point of the match. 0-15.

Morimura served again, and this time his first serve landed in. It would've easily been an ace, in front of any average player, which Niou clearly wasn't. This time the Trickster seemed to read the path more clearly, and reached the ball in a perfect timing to send it on the other side of the net with a backhand. The rally proceeded as none of them seemed to find enough room to try a winner. Morimura tried to change the pace, hitting a powerful cross-court that sent Niou out and forced him to defend, but once more, the Trickster found a surprisingly accurate forehand down the line that left the Captain unable to move. 0-30.

Asou frowned, but said nothing, as Morimura moved to the other side of the court. One more point, and Niou would've had three chances to break.

An ace avoided it for one turn, but then Morimura was forced to count on his second serve again, after his first landed almost two metres beyond the baseline.

Niou rushed on the ball like a vulture, trying a return winner, but Morimura read his intentions. He took an early control of the rally, trying to push the trickster into a forced error, but he was _everywhere_ , making the crowd hold their breath at all the impossible shots not only he managed to save, but he really controlled.

Morimura tried to close the rally with a winner down the line, but he couldn't keep the ball in. 15-40, two break points.

Niou's footwork wasn't nearly the same of the one from months ago, when Sanada last saw him competing in a official match. That wasn't even Niou's footwork; he could clearly recognize who that all-court defense and line-to-line coverage belonged to. He kept observing, as Morimura failed another first serve. The captain took his risk, serving a powerful second serve, who left Niou unable to counter. 30-40, another break point to save.

This time, Morimura's serve wasn't powerful enough. With an impressive cross-court return winner, the Trickster quickly closed the opening game in his favour. With an 1-0 lead and the chance to serve to consolidate it, Niou went to change the court under the excited murmurs of the crowd. He definitely caught everyone's attention.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sanada saw that Asou was smiling.

"Well", the vice-captain said, "maybe you'll need to tell me something more".

* * *

As he watched Niou and the Captain on the court, Yukimura felt his stomach sting, and all of a sudden the sun was just too hot, unbearable, ad god, how he wanted to just get up and go away-

But he stayed, and forced himself to watch as the players ended their quick warming up, and started to play. He couldn't see Sanada anywhere; he probably had stayed to watch the match as well, somewhere in the middle of the crowd. He doubted the Emperor would miss the most awaited challenge of the day.

"You're pinching your wrist again", Yanagi pointed out from his side. Yukimura lowered his gaze to realize that yes, the Master was right. A bite of pain reached his nerves as he became aware of what he was doing, his skin even redder than before. He rubbed it, only worsening the pain, wishing it had a bottle of fresh water or something to give it some relief.

Niou had taken the first break; but was correct to say that?

Yukimura took his eyes away from the court only to watch Yanagi's reactions; the Master, though, wore his usual poker face, with no sign that on the court was happening something he didn't expect to. Marui, on the other hand, was a totally different story; his lips pressed, his hands grabbed on the fabric of his shorts, Yukimura couldn't tell what exactly he was thinking, but he didn't look like he was having fun at all.

What was clear from the action on the court was that Niou had been cornering Morimura so far. The Captain has suffered so much pressure from Niou's defense and eventually dropped that one break point to his opponent. Morimura' serve was good, Yukimura could observe it far better from the bleachers than he had been able to do that day, from the court- it was good, but nothing special. When he tried to hit an ace, or a service winner, adding more power, he often hit it on the net or meters out, and his second serve (when he didn't force it), was nowhere good enough to represent a threat. Yukimura looked at the action on the court, which was about to reprise. He could've been easily figuring himself closing out points with return winners or aggressive return shots. Quite like Niou, he didn't have much power by himself, but he was sure few - no one he knows - were better than him at dictating the flow of the rally, even from a defensive position.

If he hadn't wasted his chances, looking for rallies, holding back to set up a rhythm, he would've left the court with something less shameful than a 6-1; how easy and stupid did it look like, thinking back at it? Yukimura couldn't hold back a bitter smile.

On the court, Niou was preparing to serve.

"What do you think?", Yanagi asked, mild-voice, and Yukimura had already opened his mouth to reply when he realized the question wasn't addressed to him. The Master was looking past him, towards Marui, who was so focused on the match that Yukimura needed to poke at him to catch his attention, and Yanagi needed to repeat his question right after.

Marui glanced swiftly at the Master, but then pointed his gaze towards the court again, but without looking like he was really watching the players as they took their positions at the baseline. "He's doing good", he answered, flatly.

Yanagi looked like he was going to ask something else, but the action reprised on the court below, and all his attention was caught by the match again. It was Niou's turn to serve, and it would've been a deciding moment of the match.

The trickster, as Yukimura himself and unlike players like Sanada or Jackal, wasn't able to take complete advantage of his service games, being far better skilled on the return side of the court.

When Niou served, however, he didn't hit his own serve, nor Sanada's, not even Jackal's.

"Where did he learn that-", Yanagi muttered.

Yukimura had seen that kind of serve only once, when Atobe used it at the Nationals during his match against Echizen. He had absolutely no idea of how Niou could have developed it in such a little time; but, on the other hand, he had no idea of what Niou had been doing during all the months that followed their defeat at the Nationals.

Yukimura had never been worried about any of his teammates to be able to surpass him, but now he wondered if he had just been blind the whole time.

* * *

Sanada recognized Atobe's serve without needing to think it twice. He winced, while a very bad sensation made him feel a cold shiver running down his spine.

He would've never expected Niou Masaharu to hit a shot like that. He would've never expected him to _master_ a shot like that. It wasn't a mere matter of hitting it; it was a perfect shot, no matter which way you looked at it.

The way he hit the ball; where the ball landed, the low bounce that made it almost roll on the concrete. Everything was perfectly performed, as Niou had been hitting serves like that his whole life. A few months ago, the Trickster's serve was even below average. Sanada has even faced him about that once, telling him that he needed to work on improving his serve if he still wanted to play at a competitive level in the inter-school tournaments. Niou had smiled - his usual, sly smile - and told him he served just in the way he needed to win his matches. Since Niou usually truly won his matches, Sanada had dropped the argument and let him leave. He didn't know what Niou had been thinking when he learned to master Atobe's serve; as well, he didn't know if it was the only improvement he had put in his service games, or if he had something else hidden up his sleeve.

Morimura had no idea of how to counter that kind of serve, and Sanada was very aware of that.

"Did he always serve like that?", Asou asked from his side.

"Not at all", Sanada replied, slightly irritated by how the tables were turning. He liked to think that he knew his teammates, and their potential; he didn't like being surprised, and Niou Masaharu had the incredible talent to annoy him even when he should be positively surprised.

This Niou playing was flawless. It took him no more that a couple of minutes to hold his serve, hitting four straight, powerful first serves, without dropping a single point to his opponent.

Asou started to look really concerned. He scratched his chin, frowning, as Morimura prepared to serve again.

Sanada could understand his concern; seeing the Captain defeated by a first year during the ranking matches could be good since it potentially added a very good element in the team (it had been like that, when Sanada and Yukimura defeated all the regulars during their first weeks in Junior High), but it could also be a disaster for both the Captain's authority and the stability of the team, and the entire club.

Despite the young age, Yukimura had been able to assume an unofficial guidance of the entire club since his first year; if Niou would have ended up defeating Morimura for real, Sanada doubted from the bottom of his heart he would be able - no, that he would want to do the same.

The following game started, with Niou pulling out Jackal's all-court defense once again. There wasn't a ball he couldn't reach, no shot he couldn't counter, no angle he wasn't covering.

Morimura dealt with that better than in the first game; once again 15-40 down, he saved two break points to drag the game to deuce, but hit a double-fault right after a perfect forehand down the line granted Niou of a third one. The Trickster was 3-0 up and serving against Rikkai's Captain, and none in the crowd was believing it.

* * *

Marui was feeling more and more nauseous every minute he passed sat on those bleachers, with the obnoxious chatting of the crowd filling his ears, incapable to watch one minute more of that match, but at the same time unable to leave.

It was like being put in front of the great show of his own inadequacy and being forced to watch, no matter that you kept feeling worse and worse by every minute. You needed to stay. And watch.

It wasn't Niou's fault, even if he couldn't tell if the Trickster had foreseen what Marui would have thought about it, or if he cared at all. It was just the reality put in front of his eyes, crystal clear, to him to stop ignoring it or behave like he didn't care.

He wondered if Jackal was watching too that perfect representation of how he would've been an exceptional singles player if only he wanted to.

Marui shouldn't be so affected by something he already knew, but it couldn't help it. The phantom of his morning match came back to haunt him, even stronger than before as he saw Niou perfectly replying Jackal's playing style in front of his eyes, and outlasting Morimura with his perfect defense that didn't miss a single ball.

It had been Jackal that taught him tennis. They were still in grade school; Jackal was a ten years old with shaved hair and a weird accent, and one day he offered one of his homemade sweets to the chubby also ten-year-old Marui and their friendship started.

Marui helped him with Japanese and with all the school rules and habits the other kid, who had lived in Brazil his all life, still struggled to understand. Jackal had played tennis back in Brazil, before his father decided to come back to Japan to stay near his elderly parents, and brought his family with him. Jackal told Marui his dad had quit his job as an engineer in a Company to start run their family's restaurant, and he had promised his son that in two years he would have signed him up for a middle school with a good tennis club, where he would get the chance to play in a real team.

Marui went to Rikkai because of Jackal. He liked to play tennis with him, in a very old street court halfway from their houses, with a net full of holes and the lines that needed to be repainted with the chalk everyday before they could play. His mother was happy too, to see him play outside every day, even if she was far less happy when his grades started to drop.

When Jackal told Marui he wanted to go to Rikkai, a sports-specialized school of their ward, Marui's parents weren't happy as their son announced he wanted to apply for the same school. The new goal forced him to put his effort in studying - his homeroom teacher had already warned him that the entry test would've been far than easy - but it wasn't the only problem. Rikkai Junior High School was expensive, far more than his parents, who had two more children at school, could afford without making huge sacrifices.

It had been Marui's grandparents that made his luck, offering to pay the school fees of not only for him, but for his brothers too, and even if his father had always refused the economical help of his more wealthy parents-in-law, that time, with Marui's huge relief, didn't say a word against it, even if it was clear that the situation didn't make him happy at all.

The life at Rikkai had never been a cakewalk for Marui; he managed to get in, but he needed to watch his grades month by month - both his grandparents and parents, who still needed to afford a lot of fees to both his school and club equipment, would have accepted bad results from him - and then there was tennis.

Playing with Jackal on that worn-out court had been fun; being in a tennis club, not at all. The first week had been a walking hell; if Jackal hadn't been there, Marui would've quit after few days, and run away.

Playing together had been fun because Jackal had made it fun. Marui loved to play at the net, loved to catch Jackal's shots with his volleys, and losing a point, or sending the ball in the garden of the old lady that lived near the court, was never a bad thing (when they rang her bell to ask to get in and search the ball, they often offer them cookies and orange juice before letting them come back to their game). Being in an actual club was a completely different thing, and Marui was nowhere near ready for that.

The first weeks had been only about run, run, _run_. Jackal had always been among the few ones that completed all the exercises assigned during their first week of practice. Marui was one of the first to collapse to the ground. His arm hurt so much after the swing practice he couldn't even hold the racket. He spent his Sundays in bed, too tired after an entire week of school to do anything else. And when he finally managed to play tennis, he understood he had never really played at all.

When Yukimura took control of the tennis club, after few weeks into their first year, Marui was allowed to have his first practice match. He took on a fellow first year, he didn't even recall his name at this point. He was not so much taller than Marui, and, looking in perspective, no more than an average first-year player. And he _destroyed_ him.

Marui couldn't even run at the net, because he couldn't save points from the baseline. His serve was shit; aside from some practice after joining the club, he had never really served in his entire life. It was usually Jackal who served, and when it was Marui's turn, the guy didn't complain if he served short or out of the service box. They were kids who were having fun, that was all.

At Rikkai, you weren't allowed to have fun.

Marui's match ended before he wasn't able to score a single point. Jackal won his in less than half an hour. Jackal was allowed to play again; Marui, who didn't even know the basics, was sent back to run and do swings and serve against the wall. The majority of the ones among his group decided to just quit the club and choose something less stressful - and without a cheeky first year like Yukimura at the head of it.

The doubles, had been Jackal's idea.

Marui got better, as the weeks passed. After the initial discouragement, it came the determination. He managed to run the entire course without collapsing. His serve eventually landed in more often than out. He could resist an entire swing practice without wishing that his arm would drop off his shoulder. And he started to practice with Jackal at the street court again, this time with the request to do it _seriously_. Jackal did so, and it took Marui weeks before taking a game away from him, but he eventually managed to.

He wasn't tall, he wasn't strong, he hadn't a powerful serve, so he started to work on what he could improve, also following Jackal's advice. His ball control became beyond average; he added spin, where he couldn't add power. He used drop-shots, and defensive lobs, even moonballs to change the flow of the rally when he became too powerful for him to handle. But still, it wasn't enough.

They were few days into their final trimester when Jackal came out with the idea of playing doubles. Marui had never thought about that, and Jackal was doing well in his matches - still not good enough to become a regular, but with good chances to have a shot the following year. Marui's volleys and play at the net started to improve, but his defense and footwork still have lots and lots to work on. Jackal said that playing together they could add Marui's net skills to his court defense, and form a quite worrisome team.

Years later, Marui still couldn't tell if Jackal really enjoyed the idea of playing doubles or if he came out with this idea to give a still struggling Marui a chance to play in matches too; at the time he didn't dare to ask, and he didn't really want to know the answer. With Jackal's support behind his back, Marui could focus on his net skills and in a time-span of few months they became a very dangerous team to play against, enough to be allowed to play during the Kantou tournament and, later, during the Nationals. Marui didn't forget that he had always been the weak link of their duo, but as soon as he could score points and became a threat in matches too, it wasn't something that made him feel bad.

That day, everything seemed to crumble on him, and Marui felt again as the twelve year old who couldn't score a single point in his very first match of middle school. And this time there wouldn't be a offer to play doubles that would give him a chance to redeem himself, or to find his place on the court.

He was already playing doubles, and he sucked at that too. He couldn't see a way out. The court started to look as a cage again. And again, he only wanted to run away.

* * *

If Sanada had the better serving skills in the entire Rikkai team, Jackal had surely the better defense. Yukimura had often thought that it was somehow a waste that he chose to play only doubles, but the half-Brazilian player always refused to play singles, or even to play with another player that wasn't Marui. Not that Yukimura hadn't asked him; especially when they started playing together, when Jackal was a very promising player and his partner a burden who could barely hit a serve in. But Jackal had been firm to his decision, and times proved him right, as only the Seigaku's pair at the National finals had been able to defeat them in an official match.

That Niou's Jackal, however, was so similar to the original one to his play style, but also quite different regarding how he built the game. If he needed to find a weakness in the Brazilian's wall of defense, it was the lack of tactical game he put in it. Having Marui under the net, able to step in and look for volley winners or counter-shots, he only needed to send the ball back on the other side of the net, without worrying too much of where it landed or about searching deep angles.

This Niou's version on a single match added Jackal's total coverage of the court with a fine tactic of building points, which fully belonged to the Trickster. It was both taking Morimura by exhaustion, neutralizing every attempt from the captain to score a point, but also looking to put him off-balance and then hit the ball out of his reach. Morimura was physically more powerful than both Yukimura and Niou, but not as players as Asou, and not nearly enough to make the difference with his serve when he had to face such a defense like the one Niou was putting on.

Up 3-0, the Trickster was now serving with two breaks under his belt, and a huge chance to go back home with a win if only he could hold his service games. Yukimura glanced at Yanagi, and caught the Master looking in his direction, observing something just behind Yukimura's shoulders. He turned to see Marui almost on the verge of tears, with his face white as a sheet and his teeth biting his upper lip like he wanted to tear it away.

Yukimura opened his mouth to ask him something, but he felt a grip on his shoulder, and turned again to see Yanagi gesturing him to drop it. "Later", he mouthed. Yukimura glanced again at Marui, who seemed completely lost in some thoughts, barely seeing the court at all, but said nothing. Yanagi put his gaze back on the court and Yukimura imitated him, just as Niou was preparing to serve again.

* * *

The Trickster started to serve aggressively again, with the result that he started with a double-fault, the very first of his match. He fixed it with an ace right away, leaving Morimura blocked on his feet, unable to react.

The crowd was on his side, and if Sanada knew than Niou wasn't a player that was affected by the mood of the crowd, he couldn't say the same for Morimura. Even top players could be affected when all the crowd support went on the other side of the net.

"I guess I got what he's trying to do", Asou said, as Morimura took a time-out between points to get some water.

Sanada turned to look at him.

"But it's useless", he added. "If you could count on someone to keep his focus no matter what, it's Morimura".

So, Sanada didn't need to tell anything to Asou to having him figuring out what the main goal of Niou Masaharu's play was. He had almost been fooled himself, during the first points, but then he realized that the Trickster hadn't changed his strategy, only his _modus operandi._ With Fuji at the Nationals he targeted his weak points; with Morimura, he was aiming at the ones he showed as his _strong_ points during the match against Yukimura: his first serve, his forehand, and, overall, his return games.

He was basically giving the 200 per cent of his abilities to prevent him to score the more points he could until the Captain would feel discouraged enough to drop his level and start making more and more errors. If it worked, he would win the match. If it didn't, there was only one outcome possible.

And the effects were already showing. The next serve was fast, but bounced too high and Morimura reached it. He had enough time to hit a well-placed cross-court forehand and this time it had been Niou's turn to be caught off-balance after all the power he needed to put on the serve, and couldn't even move to reach the ball. 15-30.

All the serves that Niou hit from then on were still powerful, but he couldn't add the right amount of spin to make them perform the low bounce they were meant to. Morimura understood that, and took all the chances he could. Another forehand down the line that caught Niou off-guard and the Captain took one of the breaks back.

It could be a turning point, but it was too early to say that. Sanada highly doubted that that was the best Niou could show for the day.

* * *

"He's starting to go out of stamina", Yanagi considered, breaking the silence.

Yukimura was still side-eyeing towards Marui, without the shorter player ever realizing he had caught his attention, still lost in thoughts that seemed far than pleasant.

He turned to look at the Master. "And of course you've predicted it".

"I supposed it", Yanagi corrected him, with half a smile. "But he's unable to hit Atobe's serve again, and only into his second service game. I can only guess that he either overestimated his capacity to keep his level of serving, or underestimated the amount of energy he needed to spend during his receiving turns. Either way, I don't think losing this service game was in his plans".

"Why losing anything should be in his plans?", Yukimura asked flatly.

"Because it's Niou", Yanagi replied. "Losing a game to win the match could be something he may do. Nevertheless, I don't think it's the case".

"Why that?"

"Because he failed with the same service technique he succeeded with in his previous game", Yanagi explained. "If I have to guess, I could say it could be a tactic to gave his opponent a false perception of self-confidence to attack him again during his next chance", he shrugged. "But I doubt that".

"And you doubt that because..."

Yanagi smiled. "Because he could've developed a serve like that in few months, and also he could have observed Jackal long enough to copy his footwork and imitating his full-court defense using a perfect reading of the opponent in front of him. But I think it's quite impossible he could've developed enough stamina to support this kind of play for the entire length of the match".

"So you think he knew he would have lost in the end, and he just wanted to show off?" For Yukimura, those words were ridiculous already when they were leaving his mouth. Niou had never been the kind of player who would sacrifice a match just to show off. No-one in Rikkai had ever been, but some of them - and Yukimura could now count himself in the number - had always been weak to people's attention. Kirihara was the king of that.

"I think it was a bet", Yanagi answered. "A bet he hadn't already lost, don't misunderstand me. He still had chances to win it".

"Depending on what?", Yukimura asked.

"I'm afraid, mostly on what Morimura will do".

* * *

If they thought Niou was already finished, they needed to think it again. The Trickster wasn't the same of the first game, at least to Sanada's eyes, who believed he had observed him far more closely than the very majority of the people on the bleachers, but he still showed an high-level play.

Morimura knew that it was crucial for him to hold his next service game, being still one break down, but Niou wasn't there to make it easy for him. The Captain could take him by surprise with two very powerful forehands, both from the net, but it still remained difficult to both overcome Niou's defense and counter his attacks when he managed to open up the court. Niou broke again, not without effort, and now he was leading 4-1, on his serve.

Sanada took a deep breath, and keep observing, perfectly aware of how the following game could define the flow for the rest of the match.

The Trickster's first serve was more similar to his old, usual standards, than to the ones he showed hitting Atobe's one. As Sanada already guessed, he couldn't perform that shot anymore without it becoming an open invitation to Morimura to surprise him with powerful return shots.

He put himself on defense again, but quite different from Jackal's. He took him quite a lot to recognize who that kind of style belonged to, but then he recognized Seigaku's Fuji in the end. The opponent that defeated Niou in the Nationals finals. Sanada frowned, without really understanding his choice. He quite wished he could ask Yanagi about it.

* * *

"It's quite an interesting choice, I must say", Yanagi said. "Even if, turning it around, you can even say it's desperate".

"Desperate?", Yukimura asked.

"Not in the meaning that he's improvising", the Master explained. "I think it was in his plans indeed. But it's indubitably a move of preservation. Now that he got the advantage, he's trying to defend his service games to keep it. If Morimura understands it and focus on attack, it wouldn't be easy at all".

"So, why Fuji?" Yukimura had never had so much esteem of that so-called genius of Seigaku. He had won against Niou at the Nationals, of course, but it was his loss against Shiraishi during the semifinals that, in Yukimura's opinion, truly showed his limits. Even if, if he was completely honest with himself, maybe he didn't like him because he recalled him of _his_ own limits.

"He's not really imitating Fuji", Yanagi said. "He's just adopting the same approach to the game. Which is similar to yours, in some sense".

Yeah. Yukimura didn't comment that.

"Pulling Jackal's defense requires a lot of energy, and at this point of the match Niou couldn't afford to waste a single drop of it. Fuji's approach, on the other hand, take advantage of the opponent's power. He's letting Morimura controlling the rally, trying to take advantage of his shots to try a counterattack".

Yukimura nodded. It was the kind of defense that players like him, who couldn't count on the physical strength as much as players like Jackal or Sanada, needed to use to cover their side of the court.

"And why didn't he use this from the very beginning, instead of wasting so much energy in using Jackal's wall?", he asked Yanagi.

The Master smiled. "I think you can guess by yourself". When Yukimura didn't reply, he continued. "For instance, Morimura is the very same kind of player. A counter puncher, with a quite good serve, but I don't think in official matches it will work as effectively as it did against you. No offense meant".

"Yeah", Yukimura replied, bitter. "None taken". Maybe a little bit.

"Secondly, as I said, it was a bet. If I can guess, a bet against the Captain's focus. He had resisted your Yips; maybe he would want to try how much he could've stayed focused if he basically prevented him to play for all the first part of the match. To see if he would be able to perform a comeback from there, or if he was out of focus enough to ease Niou's path to win the match".

Yes, Yukimura thought. _That_ was definitely something that Niou could think.

* * *

It wasn't working that well, Sanada considered, as Niou lost a point without any demerit from him, but with an extremely well-built backhand from his opponent. As Sanada had been able to see, the backhand wasn't exactly the Captain's favourite shot, but as much as he had the time to prepare and hit it, it could be as lethal as he was with his forehand. Niou was truly still in the game, but his level dropped visibly since the first games and Morimura became more aware of that. It was the Captain's turn to play aggressive, looking for angles, and sometimes the trickster looked like he wasn't even trying to reach the ball; more probably, he didn't have so much energy left, and he was trying to resist until the end of the match.

From then on, Morimura took full control of the game, in both his service and return games. Niou dropped Jackal's wall too, playing a more careful, energy-saving kind of defense in his service games too. He didn't look that he had surrendered; more than that, he looked like he still wanted to fight, but his set of weapons had clearly diminished since the battle was started. The Captain, on the other hand, wasn't facing the same problems.

It was a physical question too, Sanada considered. Niou was always the same one, thin, with little muscle, and probably, Sanada had always suspected, with a totally unbalanced diet that didn't give him nearly enough the right amount of nutrients he needed as a tennis player. Morimura, on the other hand, even if he wasn't as tall and wide-shouldered as Asou, had a solid figure, with a larger torso and more muscle on both his arms and legs than Niou, meaning that, unlike the Trickster, he had a real physical preparation behind his performances on court.

Sanada kept watching the match, but he already knew how it would end. Asou, on his side, seemed very aware of that too.

"As I told you", he said to Sanada, "he chose the wrong one to try his tricks".

"You trust his game so much", Sanada said. He had been the same, as a vice-captain, with Yukimura. This wouldn't be a bad thing for the team, whatever it would happen next.

"I do", Asou replied. "It's part of my job". He got up, even if the match hadn't ended yet. Sanada couldn't even blame him for that. "I need to go now, there's something I want to discuss with our manager", he sighed. "Wherever she is now", his eyes wandered around the bleachers. "See you, Sanada-kun. Whatever happens, it's good news to have people like you and your friends in our club".

Sanada nodded, as the guy started to climb the bleachers. A lot of people had already started to lose interest in what had quickly become a one-sided match. The young challenger had lost; the reigning King was winning. It wasn't that interesting anymore, just usual routine.

He glanced at the court again just to see Morimura hitting a winner behind Niou shoulders. Maybe he should leave too, and look for Yanagi instead.

* * *

Marui observed Niou and Morimura meeting at the net. By how Niou was walking, he was clearly worn-out, but he managed to play until the very end nonetheless. Whatever he had tried during the first games, however, clearly hadn't work. After the last break he won, he couldn't win any more games, barely able to defend his side of the court and scoring a few more points, against a Morimura who still looked ad fully in-form. The Captain won 6-4, and it was still a better result than the one Yukimura obtained, as he hadn't been able to steal more than one game from the Rikkai's Captain. But Marui doubted Niou was interested in that at all.

"That had been an interesting match, no matter what", he heard Yanagi say from his side.

He and Yukimura had been commenting during all the match, but Marui had barely heard them, completely focused on his own misery and on what to do next.

He had also barely followed the game until the very end, but he had noticed what Niou had done in the late part of the match, and what strategy he was using to at least keep playing until the very end. He overheard Yanagi saying he was using Seigaku's Fuji's approach to cover the court, and even if it wasn't really effective in the end, at least he gave him an idea.

He got up, and started to move towards the stairs.

"Bunta!", he heard Yanagi call him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going", Marui replied, with little will to stay for conversation.

"Wait", Yanagi grabbed his shoulders. He turned to see both him and Yukimura glancing at him, slightly concerned. _What the hell-_

"Are you okay?", Yanagi asked, too much serious for Marui's liking at the moment.

"I am", he cut it short. He just wanted to leave.

"Are you sure?" Yanagi had a different idea.

"Please let me go", he just said, and Yanagi didn't insist.

He saw Yukimura asking him something more than hearing him, as he was already running down the stairs, trying to hurt no-one as the crowd was slowly leaving the bleachers. Morimura's was the last match of the day, apparently. The sun was setting, it was basically time to leave. Good; at least he knew where he would find Jackal.

"About time!", his friend said, as Marui reached his locker.

Jackal was already changed into his school uniform. Marui's bag was at his feet. Of course he brought it there.

"Were you watching the match?", Marui asked.

"What match?", Jackal fixed his tie. "I was practicing. I always want to practice after a defeat. I would have practiced with you, if you didn't disappear".

"I didn't want to practice", Marui replied. "I want-", he bit his tongue.

Jackal tilted his head, looked at him. "Are you okay, Bunta? If it's for today's match, we can-"

"I know what we can do", Marui replied, before he could rethink it. "Jackal, I-", he took a deep breath. "I think we shouldn't play doubles together anymore".

* * *

...

* * *

I don't want to write tennis anymore in my life.

First, I'm not a real fan of copycat Niou, but I really believe it is a phase that started with the match against Fuji at the Nationals, which was itself an evolution of what Niou did with Yagyuu during their doubles match at Kantou tournament. I still see Niou as a player with lots of potential (as every other member of this team, in one way or another), and I really want to see how his game will evolve from them on (yes, I'm the one who's supposed to write about it).

On the other hand, I'm glad this match is over. The next step is going towards the first official matches at the, let me check my own notes, Kanagawa preliminaries for the InterHigh tournament!

Thanks to everyone who had read this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it! See you soon, and happy (belated) first days of Autumn!

Fanny

 _The Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi._

 _Those colors are made, they're changing the game [The Whole World Is Watching - Within Temptation]_


End file.
